


We Almost Had Paris

by MuireannK



Category: The Royal Romance (Visual Novel)
Genre: Angst, Angst and Romance, Apples, Attempted Sexual Assault, Canon Rewrite, F/M, Love Triangles
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-12-30
Updated: 2021-03-07
Packaged: 2021-03-11 00:27:40
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 15
Words: 80,771
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28416105
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MuireannK/pseuds/MuireannK
Summary: Estella Brook travels to Cordonia to compete for the hand of a Prince. Instead, she falls in love with her House Sponsor… but perhaps not the one you’re expecting. It certainly catches her by surprise.Things are messy in House Beaumont. Bertrand's life is complicated enough without falling for the woman on whom he’s pinned the survival of his House. Meanwhile, Maxwell is keeping more secrets than he knows what to do with.MC/Bertrand. MC/Liam. Hint of MC/Drake. Angst, eyebrows, and love triangles abound.
Relationships: Bertrand Beaumont/Main Character (The Royal Romance), Bertrand Beaumont/Savannah Walker, Liam/Main Character (The Royal Romance)
Comments: 102
Kudos: 11





	1. Prologue to a Monumental Night

  
  


_So sweep the dust from the floor_

_Let's let some light in the room_

_I can feel, I can tell_

_Someone might break the spell any day now_

  
  


**Prologue**

**~*~ New York ~*~**

**(A Boutique, Naturally)**

Maxwell and I arranged to meet Bertrand in an upmarket dress shop. Until I arrived at the boutique, I felt oddly calm about the prospect of Liam proposing, but Maxwell’s palpable anxiety made me anxious. He shuffled anxiously from foot to foot as we flicked through racks of dresses.

“Maxwell, calm,” I said quietly. “You’re more nervous than I am.”

He flashed me an apologetic grin. “Sorry, Estella. Don’t worry, Bertrand should be here any minute. If I know him, he’ll be the calm presence you need in the face of something so momentous.”

I  _ really _ wasn’t convinced that would be the case, but Maxwell had absolutely no idea just how complicated my relationship with his brother was.

The moment Bertrand burst through the boutique door and marched over to us, my suspicions were confirmed. Nothing about his appearance was calm. His face was flushed, his hair uncharacteristically dishevelled. I could tell that he’d been running his hands through it. 

“This is it!” He didn’t meet my eyes as he said it. He looked determinedly at the wall above my head. “This is the moment we’ve been fighting for all along. You, Liam, and no plots, schemes, or blond-haired barriers in your way!” He took a deep breath and finally met my gaze. “If all goes well tonight, House Beaumont will be the talk of every ball, and the esteem and subsequent wealth will surely follow!”

I didn’t say anything. Every word he spoke hit like a toxic dart, reassuring me that marrying Liam was the right decision. 

Bertrand looked intently from me to Maxwell. “We have to make this night perfect, starting with a dress! Lady Estella, when do you meet King Liam?”

“In four hours.”

He frowned. “Good god, that’s so soon. Quick, Maxwell, grab everything off the racks. We need to find the perfect outfit.”

Maxwell began to race around the shop, selecting outfits for me to try, seemingly at random. Bertrand escorted me to the dressing room, carefully avoiding my eyes. 

“Change like our lives depend on it.”

I tried on outfit after outfit. They all quickly blurred together. The Beaumonts weren’t convinced by any of them. Each time I emerged in a different dress, and Bertrand shook his head, I tried to ignore my sense of rejection. I felt my temper flaring. The resentment I was fighting to hold back was threatening to break free. None of these outfits met  _ Bertrand’s _ exacting standards, but I was sure  _ Liam _ would approve of them all.

“We’re almost out of time,” said Bertrand angrily to Maxwell, as we passed the two hour mark. “Remind me again why you chose this boutique?”

Somehow, I didn’t think the boutique was the problem. I’d tried on at least ten outfits that were perfectly suitable.

“I think I might have found it! This is the one.” Maxwell sounded frazzled but optimistic. 

“Well hurry up and hand it to Estella,” Bertrand said impatiently. 

I caught the dress as it flew over the fitting room door. It was a deep charcoal grey and covered in sequins that glittered like the windows in a skyscraper. I had to admit that this dress did have a certain  _ wow _ factor. The fabric flowed in just the right way for the sequins to catch the light, and there was a high slit. It was far too revealing for a ball or courtly function, but for a romantic city rendezvous, it was perfect.

I sauntered confidently out of the fitting room, defiantly forcing Bertrand to meet my eyes. He swallowed, his eyes lingering briefly on my exposed legs and collarbone, but then a smile crept over his face.

“Splendid.”

I wanted to punch him. I knew that all he would allow himself to see was House Beaumont’s salvation. He was wedded to this course of action now. It was too late for anything to change. 

“That’s definitely the winner,” said Maxwell enthusiastically. “A winner worn by a winner.”

“Thanks, Maxwell,” I said quietly. 

Bertrand’s expression regained its customary seriousness. It was no wonder he had so many frown lines. His resting face was almost a scowl. “Now that the matter of the dress is settled, let’s rehearse our courtly protocol.”

“Courtly protocol?” I asked incredulously, finding it impossible to keep the bitterness from my voice.

“But it’s almost time for Estella to meet Liam,” Maxwell said, looking nervously at his brother.

Bertrand glared at Maxwell. “And we will use every available second to prepare. Absolutely nothing can go wrong.  _ Nothing _ .” He turned to me, his expression set. “Now then. I will be King Liam. ‘Good evening, Lady Estella,’ and what do you say?”

“I say…" I fixed a thoughtful expression on my face. "Sup, my dude.”

I’d never called anyone  _ my dude _ in my life, but I wanted to aggravate Bertrand.

His eyes narrowed. “I suppose that was an attempt at humour.”

I met his gaze with a smirk. “Something like that.”

Maxwell was looking between us anxiously, so I rolled my eyes, deciding to play along. 

“Good evening, Your Majesty.”

Bertrand nodded, inclining his head slightly. “Would you allow me to escort you to our carriage?”

“I would be honoured.”

Bertrand extended an arm, and I took it, sliding my arm through his. It was the first time we’d touched in weeks. I looked to see if any sign of recognition or emotion would show on his face. There was nothing, just a cold steeliness. No hint of warmth or tenderness. 

“No, Lady Estella. It is presumptuous to do more than put a hand in the crook of his elbow. Let’s try again…”

I’d done a lot more than link arms with Liam as Bertrand was well aware. I returned his cold gaze with a frosty one of my own. “Look,  _ Your Grace _ , I appreciate the tips, but I’ve never had trouble wooing Liam.”

Just for a moment, I caught the conflict on his face: a battle in his eyes between envy and self-loathing. I felt a momentary flicker of triumph.

Maxwell remained completely oblivious. “In fact, Estella’s an expert at all things Liam-related,” he said cheerfully. 

Bertrand looked away from me to his brother. “Don’t let overconfidence be our downfall.”

“Why are you being so pushy?” Maxwell asked his brother in confusion. “You know Estella can do this.”

Something in Bertrand seemed to snap. He ran a hand through his hair, his face flushing as he turned on him. “I am being  _ pushy _ , Maxwell, because the glory of House Beaumont, a lineage dating back hundreds of years, is at risk! And I…” For just a moment he looked at me before forcing himself to turn away, returning his attention to his brother. “I will not be the one who fails our legacy!” He took a deep breath. “ _ This _ is all I have left!” 

Maxwell looked at his brother anxiously, swallowing nervously before speaking. “Bertrand… Does this have anything to do with Savannah?”

He asked it quietly, hesitantly, but the moment he said her name, the atmosphere between us all changed. I took a reflexive step back from the brothers. Bertrand’s shoulders tensed. Maxwell’s cheeks turned pink. 

“We are not here to discuss Savannah,” Bertrand replied quietly. “All of my efforts are focused on restoring House Beaumont, something we are incredibly close to accomplishing.” 

Maxwell didn’t take the hint. “But you’re happy with her, right?” He asked tentatively.

Bertrand looked sternly at his brother. “There is no time to talk of romance while this house teeters on the brink of ruin. We will not discuss this further.” He turned to me. “Now, you have an appointment to keep.”

_ An appointmen _ t. Could he have described it any more clinically? I wondered if this was how he spoke to Savannah. 

“I have Liam to meet,” I replied coolly. 

***

An hour later I was dressed, made up, and on my way to meet Liam. It was a relief to escape both the boutique and the Beaumont brothers. The longer the three of us spent in there, the more suffocating the atmosphere became, with secrets, resentment and melancholy all simmering away just under the surface. 

I stopped walking for a moment, took a deep breath and listened to the reassuring sounds of New York. For a woman potentially about to become engaged, I felt remarkably tense. I gave my head a shake and reminded myself that I loved Liam, that I was truly fortunate he loved me too. 

Once I felt calmer, I continued a few more blocks. Liam and I had arranged to meet at the place at which this insane chain of events had begun:  _ my old bar _ . I’d only left my old life seven months ago, but after everything that had happened, it felt like years. 

_ Once upon a time there was a waitress in New York, and a bachelor party changed her life. _

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I am possibly the only person who wants to read an MC/Bertrand angst fic, but here we go. I started this months ago and abandoned it, but I’ve had too much sugar and alcohol over the holidays, resulting in a burst of hyperactivity, sooo it’s back.
> 
> Song lyrics at the start of this chapter are from Human Again by Howard Ashman and Alan Menken,


	2. Once Upon A Time

_She came from Greece she had a thirst for knowledge_

_She studied sculpture at Saint Martin's College_

  
  


**New York**

**~*~ 7 Months Earlier ~*~**

_ Once upon a time there was a waitress in New York, and a bachelor party changed her life. _

Certain types of people will judge you for being a waitress. I didn’t have time for those people: the types who thought life was a simple contest to be won or lost. You quickly get used to sneers and condescending treatment, the implication from smug patrons that you’re only there because you’ve somehow failed. They think you didn’t play the game well enough. You didn’t climb enough ladders, you slid down too many snakes. 

“Did you want to be an actress, dear?”

“That’s the problem with your generation. You’re all glued to your phones and tablets. You don’t put any damn effort in.”

“I’m sure this is okay as a stopgap, hun, but what do you want to do with your life? Surely you don’t want to serve cheesecake forever?”

What did I want to do with my life? That was the million-dollar question. If they’d asked me two years earlier they’d have got a rehearsed answer. I wouldn’t have even paused for breath.  _ Well, now I have my Masters, and I’ve done all these internships, I’m going to work in a Gallery. _

Everything had once seemed so simple. My future plans were carved in stone and tied with a shiny bow. Then my parents died in a car crash, and suddenly the only thing carved in stone was their names on a marble tombstone.

The illusion of simplicity instantly fell away. As an only child, I’d always always wanted to make my loving parents proud.  _ I didn’t think the tombstone would care what I did with my life. _

I inherited both money and an apartment in New York, so I had the luxury of some financial stability. I drifted vaguely through the days in a fog of grief and existential angst. I got an administrative job in a shiny corporate office. Sitting at a desk all day made me nervous. I became obsessed with the notion that my life was ticking away. Tick. Tick. Tick. Meaningless, grey day followed meaningless, grey day. I quickly gave it up. 

As the months passed, my friends grew increasingly worried about me. Daniel, my friend since high school, encouraged me to get a waitressing job at the bar where he worked. It was an intervention to save me from my own introspection. Waitressing in a busy bar didn’t allow much time for melancholy retrospection. I couldn’t sit and stare at a clock. Anyone who’s worked in the service industry knows just how much stamina and tact it requires. Somehow, working in that bar, I was happy. My manager was lousy, but my colleagues were fun. I was taking the time to find a new direction for myself. 

But you can’t tell someone all this if they ask: what are you going to do with your life? Instead you just smile politely and ask if they’d like ice cream or cream. 

***

The day my life changed started as a completely average Saturday night. Sometimes I wonder what would have happened if I hadn’t been working that night, the whole sliding doors thing. 

Toward the end of my shift, when I came back from hauling trash to the dumpster, Daniel stared at me pleadingly.

“Estella, a bachelor party’s just rolled in.”

_ An hour before closing? Great. _ “I know that look, Daniel. What do you want?”

“Please take this one, Estella,” he pleaded. “I’ve got a date tonight, and I’ll never make it out of here in time…”

I sighed. “You really want me to take the bachelor party? Why do I get all the rowdy tables?”

He gave me his most adorable smile. “Because you’re way better at this than I am. Besides, these guys don’t have blow up dolls like that last lot.”

“I guess that’s something. Who’s your date with anyway?”

Daniel smiled dreamily. “His name’s Eric, he’s a barista at that coffee shop I’m always going to.”

I smiled fondly at him. “Fine, go and live happily ever after for us both.” It wasn’t as if I had anywhere better to be. We both knew that. “But you’re taking the next rowdy table.”

He waved a cleaning cloth victoriously. “Got it! You are the best!”

Our charming manager, Chad, appeared. “Are you two still talking? I’ve seated them already. Get over there, Ivy League, before I dock your pay.”

I allowed myself a calming eye-roll before plastering on my finest customer-service smile. 

As soon as I approached the seated bachelor party, I realised they were a slightly strange group. They didn’t seem to fit together. There was a man in an obviously expensive, tailored suit who looked extremely ill at ease, another guy in a black shirt who was way too happy about his surroundings, and a guy in denim, the only one who didn’t look out of place. They were all attractive guys, but none of them was really my type. 

“Hello, gentlemen. I’ll be taking care of you this evening.”

“Waitress, steaks for the table,” said the smiley one in the black shirt. _Steaks?_ _He was going to be disappointed._ Clearly these guys hadn’t thought to Google our menu. 

“How about some filet mignon, medium rare and prepared with a bearnaise sauce?” Suggested the one in the suit.  _ He was going to be really disappointed.  _

Don’t smirk, Estella. I told myself firmly. Don’t smirk. “The closest thing we have to filet mignon is the deluxe burger.”

Suit man didn’t get angry, he just looked at me as if I’d told him Christmas was cancelled. “Dare I ask for your wine list?” He asked gloomily.

“We’ve got an excellent vintage house red…”

“House red?” He recoiled as if I’d offered him a foaming glass of goat’s blood. 

“It also comes in white.” The guy in the suit sunk miserably back into his seat. 

I momentarily caught the eye of the smiley one. I was confident that he could tell I was trying hard not to laugh.

Denim Shirt took control of the situation. “We’ll be fine with a bottle of whiskey and four deluxe burgers.”

“Four?” I wondered which of them wanted two burgers. 

He gestured behind me. 

I turned, finding myself face to face with an extremely handsome man with warm blue eyes. He was tall and broad shouldered with dark blond hair. He too was overdressed for a low-key bar on a Saturday night. He was even wearing an ascot. For a moment we just stared at each other, his friends looking on in bemusement.

He broke the silence. “Sorry I’m late. Thank you for your patience, Miss…?”

“Uh, Estella.” I'd almost forgotten my own name. I suddenly felt acutely aware of just how hideous my waitress uniform was. I wondered if it was designed to be as unflattering as possible. A boxy shirt with no definition at the waist, and baggy shapeless trousers.

He gave me a warm smile. “Charmed to make your acquaintance, Estella.” He was seriously cute,  _ and _ he was polite.

People have asked me if I really didn’t recognise him. But would you recognise the Grand Duke of Luxembourg if you bumped into him in a bar? Or Queen Amalas of Monterisso? I just thought he was a handsome European guy. 

“Trust me… the pleasure’s all mine. I’ll go put your order in. Be right back.”

***

They were the last table to leave. I spent the evening sneaking glances at the group, trying to get a handle on them. I didn’t make much progress. I couldn't even figure out which of them was the bachelor, although my money would have been on Smiley or Denim. 

Once they’d paid and were heading out, I started to close up the bar. To my surprise and delight, I felt a tap on my shoulder. It was the polite, handsome guy. He gave me a smile that could only be described as charming. Standing that close to him I could smell his cologne. It was tasteful and expensive. He smelt of citrus and sandalwood, a fresh and sexy kind of scent. 

“I just wanted to thank you… and to apologise. I know we kept you late and that my friends can be demanding.”

“It’s nothing I couldn’t handle.”

“So I can see.” He kept smiling his charming smile. “If you don’t have any other plans tonight, maybe I can make it up to you by buying you a drink? We’re about to go to a club.”

I tried to play it cool, but my stomach flipped excitedly. “Oh? Which one?”

“We were hoping you might have some advice about that. We’re not from around here.”  _ That much I’d guessed. _ My assumption was that they were English. 

“I recommend going to the hottest club in town,  _ Kismet _ .”

“That sounds perfect. I know the guys want to go crazy tonight! Lead the way!”

“Sure! Let me just finish up here.” Something occurred to me. “Wait, I don’t even know your name?”

The hint of a blush crept into his cheeks. “I’m sorry, I’m usually much better at introducing myself.” He held out his hand. “I’m Liam.”

His handshake was firm and warm. “Well, it’s nice to meet you, Liam. I’ll meet you out front in a few minutes.”

I noticed that he hadn’t given me a surname. I briefly wondered if he didn’t want me to social media stalk him. I wasn’t overly concerned. He didn’t give off serial killer vibes, and  _ Kismet _ was within walking distance. I wouldn’t need to get in a car with a group of men I’d just met. 

I quickly finished my work and headed into the back to the change. I was desperate to get out of my horrible polyester uniform. Fortunately, I kept a few changes of clothes in my locker. With my friends, spontaneous nights out after work weren’t that uncommon. I changed into a strapless dusky pink dress. I loved that dress. It didn’t seem to wrinkle or crease however long it spent folded at the bottom of my locker. I pulled my hair from its tight bun, quickly plaiting it into a fishtail braid. I did my makeup as speedily as possible, trying not to keep the guys waiting too long, but also ensuring that my eyeliner and lipstick didn’t smudge. Finally, I threw on a black pleather jacket.

***

I stepped outside the bar to find the bachelor party waiting for me. I suddenly felt self-conscious, acutely aware of four sets of eyes watching me. 

“Wow,” said Denim quietly, looking at me appreciatively. “I almost didn’t recognise you.”

“That uniform certainly wasn’t doing you any justice,” agreed Suit with a smile. 

It was Smiley’s turn to chip in. “Yeah, the waitress is  _ hot _ .” My feminist principles were appalled. My ego was stroked.  _ Something told me this guy could be a handful.  _

Liam immediately frowned at him. “Ahem. Her name is Estella, and I doubt she appreciates you talking about her like that.” I was quickly realising that I  _ really _ liked Liam. 

Smiley looked instantly abashed and turned to me apologetically. “Right. Sorry, Estella. I meant to say, you look lovely. Now let’s get this party going!”

Denim looked at me sceptically. “So she’s our tour guide now?” 

Liam looked at Denim firmly. There was something commanding about his presence, despite his warmth and good manners. “Estella was kind enough to agree to show us around. She’s doing us a favour, so play nice.” Liam smiled apologetically at me. “Let me introduce you to everyone.”

***

_ Kismet _ was only a short walk away, so there wasn’t much time for conversation. There was just long enough to confirm my first impressions of the guys. There was Tariq, clearly ill at ease with his surroundings, obviously used to the finer things in life. Maxwell, an overexcited puppy, desperate to hit the club. Liam was charming and friendly. Lastly Drake, a grumpy guy in double denim. I could tell that Drake didn’t want me there. There'd been a definite edge to his tour guide comment. 

I knew the door staff at  _ Kismet _ , so we were able to skip the line. Maxwell, Drake and Tariq immediately headed to the busy dance floor.

“Time to party!”

“No one wants to see your running man, Maxwell.”

“You there! Who do we talk to for bottle service?”

Liam and I took a seat in a booth. He glanced over at his friends with a smile. “Thank you for bringing us here. Looks like the guys are having fun already.”

I looked at him curiously. “I get the impression you’re used to putting everyone else first.” 

“And why would you say that?”

“Just a feeling. Now, forget about them.” I leaned in toward him, our arms lightly brushing. “What about  _ you _ ? Do you like it here?” 

I was rewarded with another smile. “What I’m enjoying most is the company. And I believe I owe you a drink. So what’ll the lady have?”

“I’ll take a Mojito, please.”

A few minutes later, Liam handed me my drink and raised his own glass. “Here’s to an evening in New York.”

We both drank.

“Thanks,” I said with a smile. “I guess this makes us even.”

“Hmm… you’re right.” His eyes twinkled. “Now I’ll have to find some other excuse to get you to stay.”

I decided to play along, even though we both knew that I was in absolutely no hurry to leave. “Better think of something fast. Let’s see how quick you are on your feet, Liam.”

I was trying to work out who this guy was and guess what he did for a living. A lawyer? A CEO? I could tell by the way he held himself and spoke that he possessed quiet but absolute self-confidence. 

“Well… the guys are really warming up to you. If you stick around, you can keep them in line.” 

I glanced over at the guys on the dance floor. Drake was most definitely  _ not _ warming up to me. He glared as I met his eyes. I wondered what his problem was. Maybe he didn't want a woman crashing his boy's night. I suppose that was fair enough.

Tariq was sipping a glass of champagne at the bar. Maxwell, meanwhile, was being yelled at by a woman on the dance floor. 

“Oh yeah? I’m pretty sure I just saw a girl dump her drink on Maxwell.” He was mopping his shirt with a stricken expression. 

Liam glanced over at him with an amused smile before turning back to me. “See? You’re needed now more than ever.”

“What if I don’t feel like babysitting?”

“How about I buy you another drink? Does that work for you?”

“Now you’re not even trying to persuade me.”

***

As we sipped our second drinks. Liam looked at me thoughtfully. “I just want to try and figure you out.”

“I didn’t realise I was such an enigma.” I examined him quizzically. “Besides, you’re somewhat sphinx-like yourself.”

He ignored my comment. “Have you always lived in New York?”

I nodded. “Yes, apart from my College years. I grew up here.”

“What did you study?”

“History of Art, of all things.”

He smiled. “I’m guessing you didn't enjoy it very much? If you’ve given it up for waitressing.”

I shrugged. “I suppose you could say that I’ve gone rogue.”

“Any particular reason?”

I swirled my drink awkwardly, trying to figure out how to answer the question without making the conversation utterly miserable. I figured honesty was the best policy. 

“My parents died.”

He immediately looked apologetic and gently placed his hand on my arm. “I’m so sorry.”

I waved my hand. “Don’t worry. It was a few years ago now.” I took a long sip of my drink. “I guess I basically ran away from all of the expectations I’d set myself.” I chewed my lip thoughtfully for a moment. “I know I’m only waiting tables now, but I get so frustrated by the idea of your worth being defined by your job.” I met his eyes. “You only get one chance at life. I want to make mine mean something. I just need to find a path that’s right for me.”

“That’s beautiful, Estella.” Liam smiled wistfully. “You remind me a little of my brother.”

I quirked an eyebrow. “I hope that’s a good thing?”

He nodded. “It is. I’m very fond of him. We didn’t always see eye to eye when we were younger, but the older I get, the more I appreciate his perspective on life.”

“Is he a waiter?” I asked mischievously, “and what do you do, anyway?”

Liam shook his head with a smile. “My brother isn’t a waiter, but like you, he’s figuring some things out at the moment.” 

I’d somehow talked about my dead parents, and I still didn’t even know what Liam did for a living. _ Maybe he was a secret agent. _ I was beginning to get 007 vibes. Perhaps he’d mistaken me for an international jewel thief or something, and this whole thing was actually a covert interrogation. 

I figured I’d try a different question. “So, how are you finding New York?”

He met my eyes. “Honestly? Hanging out with you is the most fun I’ve had this entire vacation.”

I was flattered, but I also felt kind of bad for him. “Oh… that’s sweet. I guess that means you haven’t really been enjoying yourself very much.”

He shook his head. “It’s been wonderful, but there’s something missing. I really wanted to do one thing in particular while I was here…”

“And what’s that?”

“Well… you’re probably going to think it’s silly, but I’ve always wanted to see the Statue of Liberty… It wasn’t really in the guys’ plan, so we just never got around to it.” He sighed, taking a sip of his cocktail. “And now it’s my last day here... I don’t mean to sound so ungrateful. It was very thoughtful of my friends to throw me this bachelor party. They’ve done their best, but I’m not in the mood to celebrate.”

I felt a swooping thud of disappointment. _ So much for Liam the gentleman.  _ “Wait a second, it’s  _ your _ bachelor party? Congratulations.” I’m not sure how genuine my congratulations sounded. I suspected not very. I suddenly felt quite uncomfortable. “Would your fiancée be okay with us hanging out like this?”

He smiled at me apologetically, meeting my eyes. “That’s the funny thing. I actually don’t know who I’m going to marry yet… only that I’ll have to pick my fiancée by the end of the year.” 

_ Well that made literally no sense. _ “What’s that supposed to mean?” I realised that I’d moved away from him slightly, increasing the distance between us in the booth. 

“The truth is, Estella… I’m the Crown Prince of Cordonia.”

For a moment I just felt astonished. Then I tried to recall what I knew about Cordonia. It was one of those European countries that muddled together in my mind. I doubt I could have even accurately located it on a map. All I knew was that there’d been a major Rembrandt exhibition there a few years ago. 

“You’re a  _ prince _ ? I kind of had a feeling something was up.” I shook my head in disbelief and smiled. “I was beginning to think you were James Bond.”

He smiled apologetically. “I’m very sorry for not being honest with you sooner. The title does tend to kill conversations.”

I shrugged. “I don’t care what your title is.”

He looked at me questioningly. “You don’t know how rare it is to hear someone say that. You’re the first one, in fact.”

“I mean it. You’re still the same guy I met earlier this evening… Caring, thoughtful… I’ve seen a lot of customers come and go, but I’ve never seen any guy at his own bachelor party be concerned about whether the waitress was having a good night.”

He smiled. “It seems the more I talk to you, the more I like you, Estella. It’s strange… I’ve known my whole life that I have to take up the duties of the monarchy. I’ve always wondered how that’s shaped me, who I might’ve been without the crown.” He looked at me intently. “Believe me, I understand your desire to find a path of your own.”

“Thank you, Liam.”

***

I went to get the next round of drinks. I insisted, despite Liam’s protestations. At the bar, I bumped into Maxwell. He greeted me with a friendly wave. 

“You look a little damp, Maxwell.”

He smiled slightly sheepishly. “I’m just clumsy.”

“Having a good night?”

He nodded eagerly. “Definitely, this place is amazing. He looked at me apologetically. “I’m really really sorry about my comment earlier.” He grimaced. “That was super uncool and sleazy.”

I gave him a reassuring pat on the arm. “Don’t worry about it.”

He smiled gratefully. “It’s why I need Liam around to keep me in line.”

“Is he the leader of your merry band?” I already knew that, as both the Prince and Bachelor, he must be.

Maxwell nodded. “Absolutely. He's the undisputed ruler of our group of old friends.” He leaned in, grinned conspiratorially. “Though I think he might prefer his new friend.”

I smiled apologetically. “I’m sorry for stealing him away.”

Maxwell laughed. “Just don’t let him avoid dancing all night.” 

“I’ll do my best.”

He turned to wave at Drake on the dance floor. “Come on, Drake. Show off those moves!”

Drake, who was dancing with an attractive woman in a blue dress, pretended not to hear him. 

As I picked up our drinks, Tariq greeted me cheerfully. “I’ve come for another bottle of champagne! Who knew we’d find a decent vintage here?”

***

I sat back down next to Liam. “Looks like you’re friends are having fun…”

He smiled. “Good. I’m happy for them. They deserve to have fun. Tomorrow, it’s back to Cordonia for the start of the… Well, the process for me to find a wife...” He trailed off, a hint of uncertainty creeping into his blue eyes, his aura of calm confidence wavering. 

I tried to imagine having to marry someone out of political necessity. I couldn’t wrap my head around it. 

“It’s not tomorrow yet…” I decided to try and cheer him up. I’d already sent a few messages to check it would be possible. 

He looked at me curiously. “What are you suggesting?”

“You said you wanted to see the Statue of Liberty. Let’s do it! I know a place where we can catch a boat tour. Best view in town.”

“Right now? But it's way past midnight. Won’t all the tours be closed?”

I smiled at his confused expression. “You’re lucky I can call in a favour.”

He looked impressed. “A favour? And just like that, you can get us on a tour boat after midnight to see the Statue of Liberty?”

“Well, maybe a few favours, actually, but I have some friends who owe me.” I cocked my head as I looked at him. “It won’t be easy, but I know this is important to you, so drink up, and let’s go!”

“Right now?”

“It’s only getting later every minute we wait. Besides, it looks like the guys are busy enough. I bet they won’t even notice you’re gone.”

He smiled. “You’re not going to take no for an answer, are you?”

I shook my head. “Absolutely not.”

“Then I happily surrender to your demands.”

As we slipped out discreetly, Maxwell spotted us leaving from the dance floor. I put a finger to my lips with a small smile. Maxwell gave me a playful wink in response.

***

A remarkably short time later, we were on a tour boat. Liam and I stood together on the deck, looking up at the inky night sky and the New York skyline. 

“Now, I’m dying to know why you’re so eager to see the Statue of Liberty.”

“Can’t you guess?” He smiled at me hopefully. 

“You want to see the Statue of Liberty because… She symbolises freedom.”

He nodded. “Freedom is something that I’ve always wanted. But I’ve always known that my role would require me to give up much of what I desire.”

“You’re the prince. Can’t you do what you want, at least some of the time?”

He shook his head ruefully. “As a member of the royal family, my actions reflect on my house and all of Cordonia. It’s something I’ve never been allowed to forget. No matter how badly I might want to.”

He stared at me for one long moment, then looked away. The chemistry I’d felt between us all evening had only increased now that we were alone under the stars. 

“Liam…”

He smiled almost cheekily. “Part of me didn’t think you’d pull this off.”

“You just don’t know me very well.”

“You’re right.” He gazed at me thoughtfully. “You’re fascinating, Estella. Why are you doing this for me?”

“You seemed like you needed it.”

He took a small step toward me. “That’s very sweet of you. To be honest, no one’s ever done anything like this for me before.”

I didn’t believe him. I thought he was just being smooth. “Really? Come on, you’re a prince. I bet people do things for you all the time.”

He shook his head. “I mean it. I do get all of the perks that come with being royalty, but no one’s ever seen me as just… me. No one’s ever listened to me the way you do. No one’s ever come up with a spur-of-the-moment plan to make my dreams come true.”

I swallowed. He seemed genuinely sincere, and the expression in his eyes gave me butterflies. “Liam, what else do you dream about?”

“Finding someone. Someone who can be the queen that Cordonia needs.”

“And… also someone you fall in love with, right?” I didn’t want to imagine him trapped in a loveless marriage.

He shook his head. “That’s never been part of the criteria that’s used in the selection.”

I was about to ask him more about the selection criteria, but the boat suddenly slowed, and the mists of the harbour parted. In the distance we saw the Statue of Liberty appear. Liam stared at it entranced.

“So?” I asked tentatively after a few moments. “What do you think?”

“Magnificent,” he said quietly. “I’ve heard that art has meaning because of what it makes the viewer feel. Whether it’s ink splatters on a canvas or the ceiling of the Sistine Chapel, it only matters if it moves you.” He smiled at me slightly bashfully. “I suppose as an art historian you’d know that.”

I smiled and gave a small shrug. “I’m not sure I could have put it quite so poetically. Does it move you?”

He looked at me earnestly. “Right now, looking at this view with you, I feel like anything is possible.” He kept his eyes on mine. “Thank you for this moment, Estella. This feeling… this means more to me than you could ever know.”

“Liam…”

“I want you to know that I admire you. You have an adventurous spirit. You’re clearly not afraid to follow your heart, to live in the moment.”

“You can live that way too.”

He shook his head. “If only. My whole life I’ve prepared myself to do what’s best for Cordonia.”

“Well, we’re not in Cordonia now…”

I looked up into his eyes as he drew nearer to me. I closed the gap, our lips meeting. I shut my eyes, relishing the feeling of his lips against mine. His arms wrapped around me, drawing me closer to him, our tongues meeting as we deepened the kiss. I felt secure in his arms. 

When we drew apart his expression was one of happy surprise. He gently leaned his forehead against mine.

“You’re full of surprises, aren’t you?”

“I try.”

“I’m glad to have met you, Estella. I’ll never forget this night…”

***

I couldn’t sleep that night. The events of the evening kept replaying in my mind. I couldn’t shake Liam’s words. _ I want you to know that I admire you. You have an adventurous spirit. You’re clearly not afraid to follow your heart, to live in the moment. _

I knew there was no possibility of ever seeing Liam again. But maybe I could take something else from the evening. Perhaps it was time to embrace more adventure. _ I could travel for a while? _ If I could kiss a handsome prince, who knew what else life might throw at me. Some of the magic had finally returned to the world. 

***

The next morning the whole thing felt like a bizarre dream. I felt strange as I got ready for work, _unsettled_. All I wanted to do was browse travel websites and Google Liam. Even though I knew I’d never see him again, I couldn’t shake the memory of his kiss. 

I was completely lost in my thoughts when I arrived at work and spotted a familiar figure outside the bar.

“Maxwell?” I asked in astonishment. 

His expression was one of relief. “Estella! Glad I caught you. We’re heading back to Cordonia so Liam can find someone to marry and all that jazz.” He waved a hand vaguely as if doing a Jedi mind trick. “But before I go, I wanted to officially extend to you an invitation to join us for the festivities in Cordonia.” He was talking very quickly, clearly eager to get the words out. 

I just stared at him. “Huh?” I asked ineloquently. 

“You wouldn’t usually be able to join… but I want to sponsor you!”

“Sponsor me?” I didn’t understand what was going on.  _ Was he asking me to go on holiday to Cordonia? _

Maxwell nodded. “I’m from a noble house, but I don’t have any sisters, so we don’t have anyone in contention to marry the Prince. Instead, we can sponsor any girl we choose. And you’re my pick.”

_ Marry the Prince? Maxwell wanted to sponsor me to marry Liam? _ My heart beat fast in my chest.

“Why me?” I asked in astonishment.

Maxwell looked at me earnestly. “I’m not just doing it for you. I saw how Liam looked at you last night… and when he got back to the hotel. I’ve never seen him so happy. Honestly? I don’t want him to lose that. We’re kinda crunched for time, though. I’ve got a plane leaving within the hour.”

_ An hour? _ “Whoa. You’re moving a little fast, don’t you think?”

He grinned again. I got the impression Maxwell thrived on chaos. “No time to waste. The opening Masquerade is tonight! It’s the start of the… uh, I guess you could say, it’s the start of the competition.”

_ Competition? What the hell would I be letting myself in for? Was Maxwell secretly a producer for some kind of reality TV show? _ I figured that would actually explain a lot. 

“What do you mean?” I asked warily.

“Well, there’s a whole horde of gorgeous, rich, noble women vying to become Cordonia’s next queen. And it’s not just about winning the Prince’s hand. You’ve also got to prove to the country that you can rule Cordonia with him.” He gave me a reassuring smile. “But I think you’ve got what it takes. You’re witty and charming.”

“Uh, thanks. So, a fancy Masquerade… and what else am I getting myself into?”

“Fun stuff, I promise! You’ll get to go yachting in the Mediterranean, skiing in the Alps, and dancing in the Royal Palace…” He looked at me meaningfully. “Or, y’know, you can stay here… And go back to your waitressing gig with your crappy boss. That’s probably about as good.”

For a moment, I thought about everything that happened the previous evening, and I slowly started to smile. I’d decided to travel, and now somehow, impossibly, I was being given a chance to see more of Europe  _ and _ to see Liam again. It almost felt too good to be true.

“I’m in.”

Maxwell grinned, his face lighting up. “Yeah! Go pack your bags. This is going to be the adventure of a lifetime!”

_ I had absolutely no idea what I was letting myself in for. _

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Song lyrics at the start of this chapter are from Common People by Pulp.


	3. First Impressions

_Simple utter loathing_

_There's a strange exhilaration_

_In such total detestation_

_It's so pure, so strong_

Fifteen minutes after Maxwell invited me to Cordonia, I was back in my apartment, frantically attempting to pack my life into a modest suitcase. I was distracted by Maxwell, who alternated between hopping from foot to foot and absent mindedly looking through my belongings.

He picked up a framed photo. “Are these your parents?”

“Yep.”

He looked from the photo to me and then back again. “You look a lot like them.”

“Thanks…”

To my relief he got bored and moved onto the next thing.

“Tower of London snow globe?”

“You can’t say my friends don’t have outstanding taste in holiday souvenirs.” As he began to shake it, I looked at him questioningly. “Maxwell, any advice on what I might need to pack?”

He put down the snow globe and looked at me thoughtfully. “Ball gowns? Ski equipment? Equestrian gear?”

I felt a stab of anxiety. _Was I really prepared for this?_ “Riiight, I definitely have all of that to hand.”

He grinned sheepishly. “Just pack what you can.”

I suddenly felt overwhelmed, my heart racing uncomfortably. This was an entirely unexpected turn of events, and one I definitely hadn’t wrapped my head around yet. I closed my bedroom door and took a moment to breathe.

I stood in front of the wardrobe mirror, and, meeting my own eyes, I made a vow to myself. _I’m going to go for this and see where it takes me._ _I’ll seize the opportunity with both hands. I’m not going to question it._ _I’ll remember just how short life can be. Too short to waste time on self-doubt._

Feeling calmer, I packed the few formal dresses I owned, along with most of my smart clothing and some casual stuff. I haphazardly threw in my makeup and scooped up some books, a photo album of my family, and some jewellery.

As I finished zipping up my case, Maxwell tentatively stuck his head around the door.

“The car’s here to take us to the airport. Ready?”

I gave myself a final stern glance in the mirror before turning back to him. “I’m ready.”

  
***

Half an hour later, I found myself on a private jet with Drake and Maxwell. Events were moving so quickly that I felt slightly giddy. 

“No Liam and Tariq?”

Maxwell shook his head. “They headed back early this morning.” He grinned at me. “Besides, it wouldn’t be much of a surprise for Liam if you two travelled together.”

Drake rolled his eyes. He hadn’t softened any further toward me. If anything, his hangover made him _more_ grumpy. He’d taken a seat away from me and Maxwell, hunched up over his phone. 

“I’m guessing there’s no signal up here?” I wanted to research Cordonia and Liam to try and prepare for whatever the future had in store.

Maxwell shook his head. “Nope. Did you already tell your friends and family you were leaving?”

“Not exactly,” I said honestly. I hadn’t even quit my job at the bar. There hadn’t really been time. “I’ll message them when we land.”

Maxwell grinned. “Spontaneous disappearing act... I like it.”

“You would,” said Drake irritably. 

A flicker of an unreadable emotion came into Maxwell’s eyes, but it was gone before I could identify it. 

I couldn’t quiz Maxwell on Cordonia, because he quickly fell asleep, snoring loudly. I doubted he’d slept much last night. I wondered at what point he’d made his decision to invite me to Cordonia. Maybe it was this morning? He definitely struck me as a spur-of-the-moment, spontaneous kind of guy. 

I wanted to keep my mind occupied so that I didn’t start to overthink my decision. I ended up playing a stupid game on my phone until my eyes grew tired, and I drifted off to sleep. 

***

I was woken up by Maxwell flinging a small pack of salted peanuts at me.

“Wake up, Estella. It’s time to say ‘goodbye’ to New York and ‘hello’ to Cordonia!”

Hoping I hadn’t been drooling, I blinked a few times and caught the bottle of water Maxwell chucked at me. 

“I still can’t believe this is actually happening…”

Drake looked at me sceptically. “Believe it. We’ll be landing soon, ready or not. And if you’re _not_ ready, those ladies at court are going to eat you alive.”

Perhaps it was foolhardiness, but I wasn’t particularly scared of some random noble women. I’d met plenty of the wealthy elite during my college days. I could handle condescension. Sure, they might be beautiful. Liam would probably select one over me, but they were unlikely to physically harm me.

Maxwell looked at me anxiously. “Yeesh, don’t scare her, Drake. You okay, Estella?”

I gave him a reassuring smile. “Absolutely fine. I think I can handle some blue-blooded debutantes.”

Drake shook his head. “Cocky. We’ll see if you survive.”

I turned to him in annoyance. He was nonchalantly swigging from a can of Pepsi. “I don’t get why you’re being so grim about this…”

He met my gaze with a shrug. “Look, no offence, but I’ve seen girls you like come and go. It never ends well. Not for you, not for Liam, not for the royal family.”

This was new information. “So, does Liam get through a lot of girlfriends?” I really wished I had access to Google. 

Drake avoided the question. “All I’m saying is that Maxwell and I have seen a lot of crown-chasers set their sights on him over the years.”

Maxwell glared at his friend. “Estella’s not a crown-chaser.”

Drake snorted, but I met his eyes. “There’s no point me telling you that I’m different from those girls, that Liam being a prince doesn’t matter to me, because you wouldn’t believe me, would you?”

He shook his head. I suppose I had some begrudging respect for his honesty. Before I could say anything else, the pilot announced the plane’s descent. 

Maxwell attempted to lighten the tense atmosphere. “Hey, look! You can see Cordonia out the window! Estella, you won’t want to miss this.”

I looked out of the window to see a beautiful Mediterranean coastline. There was a stone harbour, rolling hills and picturesque buildings.

“That’s Cordonia? It’s like something out of a fairy tale! The sparkling --”

Drake groaned. “If you burst into song, I’m jumping out of the plane.”

I rolled my eyes. “I’m just saying it’s beautiful.”

Maxwell jumped in. “It is, isn’t it?” He grinned at me. “Are you ready?”

I smiled back, ignoring Drake. “Ready as I’ll ever be.”

***

As we approached the Royal Palace in a car, Maxwell suddenly instructed me to duck.

“Huh?”

“Just get down, Estella.”

Thoroughly confused, I did as instructed. I muttered an irritated ‘Hmpf’ as Maxwell threw something over my head. 

A moment later I understood why. There was a sudden flurry of activity, the sound of shouts and cameras clicking.

“Paparazzi,” Drake explained grumpily. “They’ve been starting to swarm outside the gates for weeks. They’re in a feeding frenzy now that the circus is actually beginning.”

We heard some metallic gates open and close with a clang. A few moments later, Maxwell fished the blanket off my head.

“Any particular reason they couldn’t see me?”

He smiled somewhat sheepishly. “Well… this competition is a big deal in Cordonia. A _huge_ deal. There’s been a lot of speculation around who House Beaumont might sponsor as a candidate. When the press sees you for the first time, you’ll want to be at your best.”

“Meaning not dressed casually, with almost no makeup, after an eight hour flight?” I asked bluntly. I was starting to wonder just what I’d let myself in for.

“Exactly! You’re basically our secret weapon.”

The car rolled to a stop, and I got my first proper view of the Cordonian Royal Palace. It was an undeniably beautiful building, built in the theatrical Baroque style. The exterior was magnificent, with a gold and blue frontage, elaborate mouldings, and decorative features including a large ornamental clock. In front of the Palace was a spectacular fountain. We stepped out of the car to the calming sound of splashing water. 

I stared at it in astonishment. “This is where I’m staying? I didn’t realise I’d be living in the Palace!” 

Maxwell smiled at my expression of wonder. “Most of the nobility live here while the social season is underway… Including all the ladies vying for Liam’s hand.” 

Drake yawned. “Yeah, living under one roof just makes it easier to attend the rose ceremony later.”

Maxwell rolled his eyes. “Drake’s just kidding… at least about the roses. Anyway, I’ll show you to your room, Estella…”

I was still examining the Palace exterior. “It was built in the late seventeenth century, right?”

Maxwell shrugged. “Absolutely no idea.” He grinned. “But if you’re right, that kind of knowledge will definitely help impress Bertrand!”

“Who’s Bertrand?” I asked in confusion. 

Drake snorted. “I’m going to let you explain that one, Maxwell.” He turned to me. ”See you around… if you’re lucky.”

 _That sounded ominous_. Maxwell didn’t immediately answer my question. Instead, he led me into the Palace. The interior was also stunning. The decoration was so elaborate it was almost overwhelming. There was too much to take in.

Maxwell led me up a grand staircase. I gave up trying to observe my surroundings properly. I guessed there’d be plenty of time for that. 

“So, who’s Bertrand?”

Maxwell stopped at the top of the staircase. There was something almost shifty about his expression as he answered. “He’s my brother.”

“I didn’t know you had a brother.”

He nodded. “Yeah, an older brother. His official title is Duke Bertrand Beaumont. As the eldest son, he’s the heir and I’m the spare. You’ll see him tonight. I’ve messaged him about you and he’s really excited to meet you.”

Something in Maxwell’s voice hinted that Bertrand might _not_ actually be excited to meet me. He was shuffling from foot to foot. Clearly that was a nervous habit. 

I decided to change the subject. I could worry about the mysterious Duke later. 

“So, what’s the deal with Drake? Why is he so jaded?”

“Oh, don’t mind him. Drake’s never really… fit in.”

I glanced around at our opulent surroundings. “Not used to courtly life?”

“Definitely not. He’s a commoner. He’s always been an outsider here. Even if he’s Liam’s best friend.”

***

Maxwell led us down a long corridor. The ceiling and floors were both beautifully decorated. A spectacular crystal chandelier hung from the ceiling. He stopped in front of an ornate door. 

“This is it… Here’s your room! In case you need anything from me or my brother, our rooms are just a couple of doors away.”

He opened the door dramatically, and I stepped into a lavish guest room. It felt more like a museum exhibit than a bedroom. There were full-length paintings, decorative ceramics, gilded ceilings, and a bed of fluffy pillows.

“Wow...” I put my case down and took a seat on the bed. It was incredibly comfortable. 

Maxwell smiled. “I’ll let you settle in and unpack for a bit --” He was interrupted by a heavy knocking at the door.

“Maxwell Beaumont! I know you're in there! I need to speak with you this instant!” The voice was male, extremely posh, and clearly impatient.

Maxwell grimaced.

I gave him a scrutinising look. “Sounds like someone’s looking for you.” _Presumably the mysterious elder brother_. 

Maxwell looked as if he was seriously contemplating hiding under the bed. “Right, uh, Estella, let me do all the talking…”

_Well that boded well._

Maxwell took a deep breath, then opened the door. An imposing man with a stern expression strode in. He was dressed peculiarly in a smart brown suit, with a sweater vest and shirt underneath. I couldn’t tell if it was a deliberate vintage fashion statement or an indication that he thought it was 1920. 

He glowered at Maxwell. “I’ve come to meet this mystery woman you messaged me about.”

Maxwell quickly stepped in front of me. “Bertrand! It’s so great that you’re here! I wasn’t expecting you until much, much, _much_ later. But now you’re here… This is Estella!” He stepped aside so that Bertrand could see me. “She’s my pick to represent House Beaumont.”

Maxwell waved his hand at me with a flourish, as if hoping my jeans and jacket would magically transform into a ball gown. 

Bertrand stared at me incredulously, as if I was a sea cucumber. He had prominent eyebrows, and they shot up toward his hairline. It would have been comical if my physical appearance hadn’t been the cause. 

“Oh, dear lord,” he said quietly. “ _This_ is the girl you’ve chosen to represent our house?”

I felt a hot rush of indignation. I was aware that my face was flushing red with embarrassment and annoyance. 

“Yep! Nailed it, right?” Maxwell gave me a reassuring smile. “Estella, this is my older brother, Bertrand.”

I took a breath and put on my finest smile. “It’s lovely to meet you, Bertrand.”

His eyes narrowed. “The proper way to address a Duke is ‘Your Grace’.”

I kept smiling. “I’m so sorry, _Your Grace_.” He might have been handsome like Maxwell if his expression wasn’t so unpleasant. _How could these brothers be so different?_

Bertrand examined me coolly. “At least it looks like you can be trained.”

I abandoned my smile, my tone as cool as his. “I’m not a pet.”

Maxwell looked at me sadly. “He doesn't mean it like that…”

Bertrand turned to his brother. “Hmpf. Maxwell, a word with you in private?”

He grabbed Maxwell’s arm and hauled him out of the room, slamming the door behind him. I could still hear their voices through the closed door. It was entirely obvious that they were talking about me. I pressed my ear against the door to listen to their conversation.

“ _That’s_ the girl you picked to represent our family?”

“Yeah. That’s Estella. Liam really hit it off with her when they met at the bar for his bachelor party. She was our waitress.”

“A _waitress_? You brought a _waitress_. I knew I shouldn’t have trusted you!” 

Duke Bertrand was quickly proving to be everything that I disliked: _judgemental_ , _entitled_ , _condescending_ , _rude_.

Bertrand continued. I could hear the sound of pacing footsteps as he spoke. He was obviously riled up. “We could’ve had our pick of any unsponsored duchess or countess in half of Europe!” 

I wondered why they hadn't sponsored a noble. _Had Maxwell been waiting for Liam to express an interest in someone?_ I suspected it was more likely that he’d left securing a candidate to the last minute. 

Maxwell’s voice was quieter than his brother’s but still audible. “Well, sure, but like I said, she and Liam have a lot of, you know, _chemistry_. I think he really likes her. I know you probably don’t care, but she could make him really happy. Like I’ve-never-seen-him-so-happy kind of happy. Shouldn’t Liam have a shot at love like that, even if he _is_ the Prince?”

Bertrand laughed bitterly. “Spare me your sentimentality. You’d better hope this waitress doesn’t ruin everything.”

The door was thrown open, almost smacking me in the face. I just had time to leap backwards.

“Oh!”

Bertrand glared at me. “You were listening to everything, weren’t you?”

I crossed my arms protectively in front of my chest, surveying him coolly. “You were hardly being discreet.” I quickly concluded that I detested this man. 

The Duke rolled his eyes. “Perfect, a waitress with _no manners_.” 

“Yes, because talking loudly about someone within earshot is the epitome of good manners.” I took a step toward him. I was so angry that I was shaking. “Look, _you’re_ the ones who invited me here. Given you’re clearly unhappy with me, just get another girl, but perhaps be a little more polite to the next one.” I knew I was probably calling his bluff. I didn’t think they had time to find a new candidate. 

The Duke blinked in response. I suspected that he was highly unused to having his behaviour critiqued. 

Maxwell put a gentle hand on my arm. “No! We can’t do that! You’re our pick. If you go, we’ve got no one.” He looked pleadingly at his brother. “We’ve all just got off on the wrong foot.”

Bertrand gave a long exasperated sigh. “Maxwell is, unfortunately, correct. We’re _stuck_ with you.” He ran a hand through his hair. “Perhaps my brother didn’t fully explain this to you, but if House Beaumont puts forth the Prince’s choice, we’ll win fame and recognition…”

“Something we could really use right now actually, 'cause we’re kind of broke,” Maxwell explained. 

Bertrand gave him a warning glance. “Maxwell. You overstep.”

“Sorry,” said Maxwell apologetically. 

“Do you get money if I marry the Prince?” I asked curiously.

Bertrand considered the question. “Not… directly, but we can leverage the prestige to great effect. It would be best to get that leverage before others find out about our situation.”

Maxwell nodded. “In the circles we run in, if word got out of our financial ruin, it would be a scandal.”

“But our name is still worth something in Cordonia!" Bertrand explained. "At the very least, we can introduce you to the right people, get you invitations to the right events…” He examined me sceptically. His disappointment with his brother’s choice extremely evident. I knew he didn’t think I belonged at any of the events he might be able to secure me an invitation to. 

I took a moment to compare the two brothers. The physical resemblance between them wasn’t strong, but I suspected that was due to their differing demeanours as much as anything else. Bertrand’s hair was darker than Maxwell’s, his expression haughtier. His eyes weren’t as large or as warm. Maxwell's face and mouth were softer, friendlier, his jaw less defined. If there was a close resemblance, it was in their facial structures and foreheads. I wondered what the age difference between them was. I suspected somewhere between five and ten years. 

After an awkward silence, Maxwell smiled at me encouragingly. “So, what will you be wearing this evening? We’ll need to find a perfect look for your debut.”

“What exactly is happening this evening?”

Bertrand rolled his eyes and muttered something indistinct under his breath. 

Maxwell smiled apologetically. “I’m sorry, I keep forgetting that you’re not used to all this. The first event of the social season is tonight… The Masquerade.”

“It’s the ball where all the suitors will be presented formally to the Prince, as well as to the King,” said Bertrand, looking at me doubtfully. “I suppose it would be too much to ask if you even packed a costume appropriate for a black-tie affair?”

“I have _a_ dress.” I suddenly felt self-conscious. I’d brought the same dress I’d once worn to a ball at college. It probably wouldn’t be suitable for a Royal Masquerade. 

“Let’s see,” said Maxwell encouragingly. 

I retrieved the dress from my case and held it up. It was a full-length blue gown with thin straps. Bertrand let out a long-suffering sigh and pinched the bridge of his nose. 

Maxwell waved his hands. “Lucky for you, we’ve made an appointment at the Palace boutique. Maybe you’ll find something you like better there!”

"You mean something _you_ like better,” I said grumpily. 

Maxwell smiled sheepishly. 

Bertrand was glaring at my dress as if it had insulted his mother. “Remember. Tonight is _very_ _important_.”

“You could end up getting to dance with Liam!” Maxwell said cheerfully.

“More importantly," said Bertrand. "It’s your chance to make a first impression on all the influential people at court and to stand apart from everyone else!”

I looked wistfully at my blue gown. “I’m guessing I’m on my own if I need to buy a new dress?”

“Precisely.” Bertrand scowled at his brother. “This is why we planned on sponsoring a _noble_ candidate.” 

Maxwell nodded sadly. “We can only afford the very minimum… I’m really sorry we can’t offer you more.”

Bertrand looked around the room thoughtfully. “We can at least offer you a first-rate education in the ways of court…”

“An education?” I asked curiously. 

“You will need to both dress _and_ play the part. It will be up to you to suitably dress yourself.” Bertrand did not sound optimistic. “ _I_ will prepare your education. Now is the perfect time to start memorising the lineages of each Great House. I’ll bring you some notes this evening so that you can begin work immediately.” 

Maxwell’s eyes widened. “Hey, hey, Bertrand... Let’s not scare Estella off. She just got here!” He smiled at me kindly. “Why don’t you head to the boutique, see what you can find to wear tonight? You could at least get a mask to go with your blue dress? While not everyone wears a costume, you can be sure that the ladies competing for Liam’s attention will be pulling out all the stops."

“Please choose something tasteful,” said Bertrand wearily. “You’re not in a New York dive bar anymore.”

_I did not care for Bertrand Beaumont._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I’ve borrowed some dialogue and timings from the failed rewrite of TRR. It made sense to me that Bertrand would at least want to *see* MC before the ball, even if he was too busy to actually attend. I didn’t include the tour scene. I like it as an opportunity to bond with Maxwell, but I think it shows Bertrand softening toward MC far far too early. 
> 
> Song lyrics at the start of this chapter are from What is This Feeling by Stephen Schwartz.


	4. Let the Games Begin

_But I'm feeling nice_

_Here's some advice_

_Listen up biotch_

  
  


“Isn’t it a bit strange to have a store here?” The boutique was just that: a luxurious clothing store tucked away at one end of the Royal Palace. 

Maxwell shrugged. “It’s convenient for last minute purchases. Means you can avoid the paparazzi stalking outside the gates.” He pointed me toward a door. “You have an appointment so use that entrance.”

I glanced sympathetically at him. “I hope _His Grace_ goes easy on you.” I was still seething from my encounter with Duke _A waitress? You brought a waitress._

He smiled bravely. “He’ll come around.” _I wasn’t entirely convinced._

Maxwell departed with a cheery wave. 

***

I stepped into a pretty changing area only to be confronted by a beautiful brunette in her underwear. 

“Oh!” She said, her eyes widening in surprise. 

“Eep!” I said quickly, feeling myself blush. “Sorry! I didn’t realise someone was already here…”

She shook her head. “No problem. To be honest, I didn’t have an appointment.” She gave me a friendly smile. “I’m Hana… I must assume that you’re just like me… searching desperately for something to wear.”

“More or less. I had a dress...” I grimaced, thinking back to the Duke and Maxwell’s faces when they’d seen my blue gown. “... But I had second thoughts.”

She nodded sympathetically. “Same! Don’t worry though, this boutique has the most exquisite gowns. Let me just slip my dress on…”

Hana pulled on the dress she was holding. It was a beautiful, sparkling pink, floor-length gown. 

“Need a hand?” I noticed she was struggling to get the zipper fully up. 

She smiled gratefully. “That would be amazing.”

I helped her slide the zipper up, sneaking a subtle glance at the price tag as I did so. My stomach dropped uncomfortably as I roughly converted the currency. The dress cost more than seven thousand dollars. _Yikes_. 

Hana picked up a matching jewelled mask and settled it on her face before turning to me and grinning. “Thank you. Not many girls here are like you…”

“Helpful?” I suggested tentatively. 

“Nice.” She smiled at her reflection in the mirror. “Ah, this dress is perfect!” She spun around happily, her full skirts twirling.

“It’s lovely,” I said honestly.

Hana gave me a kind smile. “Now, what about you?”

“I’ll take a look…”

With a sense of trepidation I began sifting through the clothing rails. I discreetly checked a few price tags, quickly realising there was a lot of price variation between items. I had a strong suspicion that this trip to Cordonia was going to be expensive. It was probably best not to splash out too much on my first outfit. At the same time, I didn’t want to be the only _contestant_ , _suitor_ , _candidate_ , or whatever the proper terminology was, without a suitable costume. 

“Have you seen the angel costume?” Hana suggested enthusiastically. “You’d look amazing in white. Or there’s also a red one, if you’re feeling more devilish?”

I preferred the white. It would go with shoes that I already owned. I accepted it from Hana and ducked into a changing room. I glanced immediately at the price tag. It was _just_ about affordable. 

I tried the dress on. It was a flattering, shimmering, white gown with a corresponding halo headband and silver mask. The halo felt a bit silly, but I figured it was at least eye-catching.

“Heavenly!” Hana said with a smile as I emerged.

***

Once I’d paid for my new gown, I returned to my room to get ready and turned my phone on. There were about fifteen missed calls from Chad, five from Daniel and three from Cassy, my tour boat operator friend. I quickly sent a series of messages while I waited for my curling wand to heat up. 

“Sorry to hear I’m fired, Chad. Apologies for vanishing today. I’m afraid something came up. Good luck with everything.” I _did_ feel guilty for abandoning my work colleagues with no notice. They’d be busy. It was a Saturday. 

“Hey, Dan, I’m alive. Might have temporarily moved to Europe (long story) will explain soon.”

“Yes, he’s a Prince… Yes, I kissed him. I’ll call you tomorrow xx” 

***

Once I was dressed and ready, Maxwell met me at the bottom of the grand staircase. He was wearing a striking black and red suit, his face half concealed by a harlequin mask. 

He smiled approvingly at my dress. “Nice outfit! You look great.”

“Thanks. I like yours too.”  
  
He smiled. “Hopefully nobody will notice it’s the third time I’ve worn it to various events.”

I glanced around warily. “So, there’s _really_ no _Duke of Ramsford_ tonight?”

Maxwell smiled. “Nope. He’s all tied up with estate business.” He guided me to the doors of the grand ballroom. “One other thing I should mention. As soon as you enter, you’ll tell the herald your name and title so that you can be announced…”

“What’s my title? _Miss_?”

Maxwell considered. “You don’t really have one, but since my family is sponsoring you, you could technically be considered a lady.” 

The herald announced Maxwell, and then turned to me.

“Please announce me as Lady Estella Brook.” It sounded strange, like I was playing a role in a play. _Enter Lady Estella Brook stage right in pursuit of a handsome Prince._

_***_

My eyes widened as I walked into the ballroom for the first time. It was undeniably spectacular. Every inch of wall, ceiling and floor was ornately decorated. 

I accepted a glass of champagne from a passing waiter and sipped it gratefully. Another waiter offered a tray of canapes, and it suddenly occurred to me that I hadn’t eaten anything since the tiny packet of peanuts. I wondered how many portions of tomato bruschetta it was socially acceptable to eat at a ball. 

Maxwell’s phone vibrated. His face dropped as he glanced at it. “I’ve got to talk to Bertrand for a sec. You’ll be okay on your own, right? Just mingle.”

“Mingle… right… I can do that.”

I glanced around the ballroom for a mingling opportunity. I hoped to spot Hana, but the sole person I recognised was Drake. The only person I wanted to avoid more than him was Maxwell’s brother. Still, I figured we could at least stand alone together. 

As I approached, he nodded and gave me a stiff bow. He was incongruously casually dressed. I almost admired his steadfast commitment to double denim.

“Good evening, my lady.”

“So you _do_ have manners.” 

He blinked. “… Estella? Is that you?”

“You really didn’t recognize me?” I was almost flattered. 

He shrugged. “You clean up well.”

I opened my mouth in feigned surprise “Drake...was that actually a _compliment_?”

He shook his head. “Nope. Besides, looking the part doesn’t mean you’re going to be welcome here, you know.”

I sipped my champagne. “Well, you’re as charming as ever.”

“Hah. Compared to most of the nobles here, I’m your best friend.”

I glanced around the room at the throng of elaborately-dressed guests, many of whom were wearing masks. “Drake… I _almost_ believe you.”

He nodded. “That’s the first smart thing you’ve said.”

“Thanks.”

He sighed, looking at me wearily. “Look, I’m not trying to be a jerk. I’m just trying to help.” 

“You have a very peculiar way of helping.”

He put his hands in his pockets, leaning back against a table. “I’m just saying the things I wish someone had told _me_ a long time ago.” He smirked at me. “How did you get on with the _illustrious_ Duke of Ramsford, anyway?”

I took a long sip of champagne. “I think you’ve answered your own question with that smirk.”

“An American waitress not good enough for his precious house?”

Before I could say anything, a strange woman took my arm. “Ahem! Pardon me, but I absolutely must steal her away.” My mysterious kidnapper had long, dark red hair that fell in waves over her shoulders. She was elegantly dressed in a purple gown with a matching mask. 

“Hey!” I said indignantly. Her grip was remarkably strong. 

She released my arm with a cold smile. “Forgive me for being forward, but I’ve never seen _you_ here before. I make it a _point_ to know all of the ladies at court. I’m Olivia Vanderwall Nevrakis, Duchess of Lythikos.” She gave me an appraising look. “Lady Estella Brook… I can’t say I’m familiar with your house. It must be nouveau.” Her sneer at the word _nouveau_ told me everything that I needed to know about her. 

“I’m representing House Beaumont.”

She smiled at me. “Well, seeing as you’re the new girl at court, let me give you some friendly advice. When you’re presented to the King, you should kiss his shoe when you curtsy to him.”

 _She clearly thought I was a gullible idiot._ I decided to play along, widening my eyes in feigned ignorance. “Really?”

She nodded. “It’s Cordonian custom to show deep respect and reverence for the monarchy. You’re so lucky that I was here to warn you! Otherwise, you’d look completely ridiculous.”

“Thank you,” I said in my most grateful voice. “That’s very kind of you.”

She stalked away across the ballroom with a smile as Maxwell rushed back to my side.

“Prince Liam is here! Ready to see him again?”

I looked across the crowded ballroom, and my heart leapt as I caught a glimpse of Liam. He was dressed in an elegant outfit, a black and silver mask covering most of his handsome face. It was extremely strange to think that the previous evening I’d been wrapped in his arms on the deck of a tour boat. 

I suddenly had my first moment of severe self-doubt. Would Liam find it sinister or stalkerish that I’d uprooted my entire life to pursue him? I’d hoped my actions would seem free-spirited and romantic, but now I was faced with seeing him again, I wasn’t so sure.

“Do you think he’ll be glad to see me?”

“Only one way to find out… Go talk to him.” Maxwell looked at me seriously. “Now, I’m going to present you to King Constantine first. You’ll want to make a good first impression on him, so he’ll consider you a worthy match for his son.”

***

Maxwell steered me over to the King, who was seated on a raised dais. He was a distinguished, older man dressed in a striking royal blue uniform with a red sash. 

“Good evening, Lord Maxwell.”

Maxwell bowed. “Your Majesty, may I present Lady Estella Brook?”

“Of course…”

The King looked at me expectantly, and I dropped into a low curtsy.

“Your Majesty.”

“It’s a pleasure to meet the suitor House Beaumont has chosen. I hope you enjoy your time in Cordonia.” His smile was similar to Liam’s, the resemblance between them striking.

I smiled. “Thank you.”

Maxwell escorted me away, and I fell in line behind the guests waiting to greet the Prince.

 _“Lord_ Maxwell, huh?”

He grinned. “That’s my title. You could refer to me as ‘His Lordship’ from now on if you really want.”

I smiled. “I like you better as Maxwell. It’d be a bit of a mouthful if I kept having to say _Your Grace_ _and_ _Your Lordship_ every time I spoke to you and your brother. It would start to feel like a trashy romance novel."

Maxwell laughed. “Bertrand’s just a bit... proper… Now, look sharp.”

The line had shortened, and I was nearly in front of Liam. 

“Here’s your big moment! Don’t blow it.”

_No pressure. Thanks, Maxwell._

Maxwell stepped aside. I took a deep breath and stepped forward alone, my heart pounding in my chest. The masked Liam examined me curiously as I rose from a polite curtsy. 

“Hello. You’ll have to forgive me, but I don’t think we’ve met…” 

Clearly the costume had done its job. “Oh? And how does a prince greet a beautiful mystery woman?”

“With a kiss on the hand, I hope?”

Liam took my hand in his and brought it to his lips. My skin tingled at the contact. 

He examined me with interest. “Now, I believe I know every other lady here, so your very presence is baffling me. I can’t stop my mind from racing. Is she a high ranking aristocrat from a distant country? Or a wealthy woman of the world? So who are you? What brings you here?”

“ _You_ brought me. I think all the women here tonight are here for you.”

“In a manner of speaking. But no one’s surprised me yet like this.”

I smiled. “You’ll be even more surprised when you figure out the truth.”

“And what is that?”

“No guesses yet?”

Liam stared hard at me for a moment, and then his eyes went wide. I wondered if he was going to summon Palace security to have his stalker removed. To my immense relief, his face broke into a wide smile. “Estella… I thought I’d never see you again.” 

“So… this is a good surprise?”

“The best. But how did you get here?” He sounded genuinely astonished. 

“Maxwell and his brother are sponsoring me. He brought me here to join the other suitors.”

“Really? That’s amazing! I can’t believe you came all this way for me.”

I smiled, encouraged by his obvious joy at seeing me again. “Liam… I know we have something special. I want to see what it can be.”

His eyes lit up. “I feel the same way.”

He reached out and touched my hand, but after only a moment a man next to him, dressed in a smart grey suit, cleared his throat.

Liam’s expression grew more serious. “We’re not in New York anymore, though, Estella. The rules here are different.” He lowered his voice. “This entire series of events is set up not just to give me time with my potential matches, but also to give my parents, and the people of Cordonia time to get to know the future queen. From now on, everyone will be watching you.”

He watched my face to see how I’d respond to his statement. My actual reaction was _wow, that sounds like a lot_ , but instead I smiled confidently. “That sounds fun.”

Liam smiled. “I knew you’d be up for the challenge. I’m sure you’ll charm them just as you’ve charmed me.”

I couldn't help but smile again. “Any advice for me?”

He considered for a moment. “Don’t let the other ladies intimidate you. Most of them are actually very nice, but they can be…”

“Competitive?” I suggested, thinking back to Olivia Wonderwall Nevrakis, or whatever her name was. 

He nodded. “Exactly. But you can’t really blame them. That’s the whole reason for this, after all.”

I simultaneously found the idea of having to compete for Liam both off-putting and oddly compelling. I had a competitive spirit. There was a reason nobody back in New York would play Monopoly with me. 

He smiled ruefully. “Unfortunately, the receiving line isn’t the best place to talk. We only have a few more moments before the next lady arrives…”

“In that case, how are you holding up?”

He seemed surprised. “At a time like this, you’re asking about me? That means a lot to me, really. This whole thing… It’s a lot of pressure, but I knew what I was getting into. The princes of Cordonia only have so much say over who they marry, and I understand why. It doesn’t make it easier, but it’s what I was raised for.”

It made him sound like an animal raised for slaughter, and I felt a stab of pity for him. That was, until another beautiful noble lady approached. 

“Sorry, our time is up," he said with a rueful smile.

“I understand." I smiled thoughtfully at him. "We really _aren’t_ in New York anymore, are we?”

“No… I hope I’ll see you again later tonight, if you’ll save a dance for me.”

***

Maxwell joined me as I walked away. 

“Liam looked _really_ happy to see you.”

I nodded. “I guess now I should start trying to impress the royal court and the people of Cordonia…”

Maxwell smiled. “Don’t worry. You’ll have plenty of time for that. Bertrand and I will be there to help you every step of the way. Remember, we want you to win this thing.”

“Right.”

He looked around thoughtfully. “For now, it’d be a good start to get to know the other courtly ladies. They’re your competition, but you might be able to make some of them your allies. Bertrand and I are helpful, but the more people you can get on your side the better.”

“Make friends and influence people, on it.”

Waving at Maxwell, I walked outside and found Olivia, Hana, and some other noble ladies drinking champagne. There were two women I didn’t recognise. One was dark-haired and stunning, dressed in a gold and black dress. The other was a pretty brunette in a sparkling blue dress. 

Olivia turned to me with a frown. “Estella, you were awfully familiar with the Prince. You didn’t say that you knew him.”

“Olivia, it’s…” I helped myself to a drink. “Absolutely none of your business.”

Her frown grew. “Oh, but it _is_ my business. _Everything_ that has to do with Prince Liam is my business. After all, I’ll likely be his queen when this competition is over.” The scathing way she said _competition_ implied she thought the whole process was little more than a tedious formality. 

I smiled at her. “I hope you’ll save me a spot at your coronation.”

She took a step closer to me. I remained calmly in my spot. I knew she’d be the type to smell weakness. 

“Listen, you should know that whatever happened between you and Liam, you really don’t have a chance with him. You might’ve been able to capture his attention when it was just the two of you, but you can’t keep up with the ladies here.” She gestured at the assembled group. “We’re from the finest families in Cordonia, and we’ve been training and preparing our whole lives to marry a prince.” I thought that was a slightly strange way for them to have spent their lives, particularly with only one Prince to go around. 

Olivia glared at me. “You can’t just waltz in here at the last minute and steal him from us.” 

“No, but I can try,” I said with a deliberately infuriating smile. 

Olivia ignored me, gesturing instead to the woman in the gold dress. “Kiara here is the daughter of a diplomat and is fluent in ten languages…” _Okay, admittedly that was very impressive._

“Le Prince va tomber amoureux de moi,” Kiara said with a smile. 

Olivia gestured to the other woman. “Penelope can track her lineage back through six hundred years of royalty.” _Nope, not impressed by that._

“It’s an honour to represent my family here,” said Penelope. 

Finally Olivia turned to Hana. “Even Hana’s been training to learn the courtly graces of conversation and seduction.”

“Uh, thanks,” said Hana uncertainly. 

Penelope turned to Olivia with a sycophantic smile. “But if anyone’s got the inside track with Prince Liam, it’s you, Olivia. You’ve known him his entire life.”

Olivia beamed. “It’s true. We grew up at the palace together as childhood friends… Before his older brother abdicated, it was just assumed Liam and I would be married one day. I’ve got no intention of losing him to one of you harpies… No offence.”

I shrugged with a serene smile. “None taken. I see myself as more of a gorgon than a harpy anyway.” I wondered if Olivia was telling the truth. I couldn’t really imagine her and Liam together, but I hardly knew him. _Anything was possible._

Olivia turned to me with a frown. “I don’t know why you’re still smiling. _You have no chance_.”

I sipped my drink. “How charming.”

“Oh, Olivia can be quite charming when she _wants_ to be,” said Kiara with the hint of a smirk. 

“ _You’re_ just not very likely to see it,” Penelope added with a sneer. 

Olivia smiled again. “Don’t worry, ladies. I’m sure little Estella will learn her place here eventually. Or else I’ll make her life a living hell.” I thought Maxwell’s brother already aspired to that task. Maybe they could take turns at belittling me on a rota system while I did something useful, like read the Cordonian papers.

“And what, exactly, do you think my _place_ is here?” I asked calmly. 

Olivia shrugged. “Oh, somewhere below Penelope and Kiara, but you know what? Probably above Hana. Though I’m surprised Hana’s here at all after what I heard about her last attempt at an engagement.”

“ _Olivia_!” Hana said in horror. 

Olivia sensed weakness and went for the kill. “Well, we all know that your family will throw you at any available bachelor as long as it means you can climb another rung on the social ladder…” She sneered openly at Hana. “But, honestly, it's a bit much to expect that Prince Liam is going to accept _damaged goods_."

Hana’s face turned red. “I… I need to… _Excuse_ _me_.” She made a swift exit.

Olivia watched her go with a smirk. “Girls like her shouldn’t bother being here if they can’t handle the truth…”

I turned to Olivia, keeping my expression composed. “Olivia… You’re acting like a child, not a queen.” I shook my head at her. “If this is how you behave, I wouldn’t trust you with childproof scissors, let alone a kingdom.”

“I… You can’t…”

“I just did.” I turned to Kiara and Penelope with a polite smile. “Now, If you’ll all excuse me, I’m going after Hana.”

***

I rushed after Hana and saw her dashing down the hall into a room. I knocked quietly on the door. Hana opened it, tears running down her face.

“Estella, what are you doing here?”

“I wanted to make sure you’re okay.”

She smiled weakly. “That’s…That’s so kind of you. Thank you.”

“It was the least I could do.”

She showed me into her room, and I took a seat on the couch. 

She sat on the bed forlornly. “I know I shouldn’t let Olivia bother me.” She looked at me tearfully. “You probably think I’m making a fool of myself.”

I shook my head. “I think you’re being human. You’d have to be a robot to not let Olivia get under your skin when she talks to you like that.”

She nodded. “I guess you’re right. The real problem is…” Hana looked at me anxiously, as if trying to ascertain once and for all if I was friend or foe. “Olivia is right. Last year, my parents arranged a very advantageous match for me. But only a few weeks before the wedding, the groom pulled out of the arrangement. It was handled quietly, but it was still regarded as rather scandalous.” She took a deep breath. “Since then, my parents have been desperate to find me another match. They’ve all but thrown me into this competition. I thought Cordonia was far away enough that I could escape my past… But it looks like the rumors have followed me here.”

I was touched. I knew she’d made a decision to trust me, in an environment where exposing vulnerability could be a weakness. Something told me that secrets were a valuable currency in this competition. 

“Hana, a broken engagement is nothing to be ashamed of.”

“It’s not?”

I shook my head. “In the real world, stuff like that happens all the time. Sometimes things just don’t work out. It doesn’t mean anything’s wrong with you.” I decided to trust Hana in exchange. “I know all about the real world. I’m a commoner Lord Maxwell discovered.”

“You’re not a noble?” Hana asked in surprise. 

“I’m a waitress. Well, I _was_ a waitress.” I smiled. “I’ve just been fired. The Beaumonts are sponsoring me to represent their house.”

Her eyes widened. "Are you worried what the other ladies will say when they find out?”

I shook my head. “What’s the worst they can say? _I_ already know I was a waitress.” 

“Will you tell Prince Liam?” she asked curiously.

I grinned. “That’s how we met. I was his waitress.”

Hana's expression was torn between surprise and amusement. “That’s quite a story, Estella.”

I looked at her earnestly. “Look, Hana, I think we both know why Olivia singled you out.”

“Why?”

“Because you’re her biggest threat. Look at yourself! You’re gorgeous, well-composed, compassionate, articulate… All of the things that Olivia _isn’t_.”

“I don’t know, she _is_ kind of gorgeous.”

I shrugged. “Hmm, maybe I’ll give her that one, but you’re clearly a front-runner for the Prince’s choice. It’s no wonder Olivia’s threatened by you.”

“But you’re not."

“Honestly, Hana, I’m just here to see what happens. _Carpe diem_ as they say.”

She smiled. “Well, Estella, I see that I’ve found myself in your debt already.”

“It’s not a big deal.”

“On the contrary, your words have spoken volumes about your character. I won’t forget this…” She wiped at her face. “I must look a mess…”

I smiled reassuringly. “Nothing a quick touch-up won’t fix.”

***

As we stepped back into the ballroom, Maxwell ran up to me.

“Estella, there you are! I’ve been trying to find you. The last dance is starting up, and I think you and Liam deserve this one…”

I turned to see Liam talking to Penelope, she of the six hundred years of inbreeding. 

“It might be a little rude to cut in, but --”

I looked at Maxwell meaningfully. “Say no more… I know what to do.”

I walked over to Liam, catching their conversation. 

“...And that’s how my family acquired its fifth golden poodle statue…”

Liam nodded thoughtfully at her. “I can relate. Don’t get me started on the queen’s antique goblet collection…” He smiled at me as I approached. 

“Excuse me," I said politely. "May I cut in?”

“If you must…” Penelope said forlornly. 

“I must.” I didn’t feel any guilt. Served her right for sneering at me earlier.

Penelope reluctantly walked away as Liam turned to me with a smile. “You handled that very well…”

“I try.”

He looked at me thoughtfully. “You do more than that. Honestly, you seem as comfortable here as you did back in New York. Shall we dance?”

As the orchestra struck up a dreamy waltz, Liam took my hand. I had another moment of doubt. I knew the basic waltz steps. I’d had a college boyfriend with a passion for ballroom dancing, but that was years ago. 

“I’m not sure I know all the steps…”

He smiled reassuringly at me. “Just follow my lead.”

With Liam’s strong arms around me, I easily matched his movements.

“You’re an amazing dancer," I said honestly, enjoying the sensation of being back in his arms.

“My parents would be thrilled to hear that all those years of dance lessons paid off." He looked at me intently. "I’m very glad that I got a moment alone with you, Estella.”

“Well.. relatively alone. There’s only about a hundred people watching us right now.”

“Unfortunately, it’s about as much privacy as we might expect… Though I do have a trick up my sleeve…” He smoothly guided us across the ballroom floor and waltzed us out of a set of French doors to an unoccupied balcony. “We can get a little more privacy out here at least.”

I was impressed. “Nice moves.”

“Thank you.” He looked at me earnestly as we stood on the balcony. “Now, I want to know how you are. I trust you’re being well taken care of here?”

I nodded. “Maxwell’s been very sweet so far. He flew me out here and set me up with a room and everything. His brother the Duke is…” _Be diplomatic, Estella, they might be old friends_. “... Interesting.”

Liam smiled knowingly. “Ah, the Duke… Yes, he’s… different from Maxwell. More serious. But their house has an excellent reputation, mostly due to him.”

“I see…”

“What about Cordonia? What do you think of my home so far?”

“Cordonia? I love it!”

He seemed to be relieved. “Really?”

“It’s beautiful! It’s like something out of a fairy tale.”

He smiled. “I’d hoped that you would love Cordonia as much as I do. It’s… well, it’d be rather unfortunate for a queen to dislike her kingdom.”

 _Yes, good point._ “I guess that’s a pretty important quality in a queen-to-be…”

Liam nodded. “Especially given Cordonia’s recent history.”

“What do you mean?”

He sighed. “These last few decades have been somewhat rocky for us… The first queen abandoned my father and my older half-brother. I’m not clear on the exact details, but…”

“Do you know why she left at least?”

“She couldn’t handle the pressures of courtly life. She came from a lesser noble family, so she hadn’t been long at court before the marriage…” I wondered if my limited time at court would count against me in this contest. _Maybe he was trying to gently warn me_. “And my own mother passed away when I was still a child…”

“You lost your mother? I’m so sorry.”

He nodded sadly, and I wished I could take his hand. “Cordonia wept for her. As did I.”

“And so the current queen…?”

“She may not be my mother, but she is a wonderful woman who’s done her best to lead Cordonia alongside my father. Instability in the monarchy is always dangerous for a small kingdom like ours. Weakened currency, a rise in crime, a drop in tourism… all because of the lives of the rulers.”

“So that’s why you care so much about finding the right queen.” _This strange process made more sense from that perspective._

“Exactly. I can’t just follow my heart… as much as I might want to. There’s too many other people I need to think about…" He sighed, his expression solemn. After a moment he gave me an apologetic smile. "Sorry. I didn’t mean to burden you with this.”

“Liam… You can tell me anything. _I’m here for you_ ," I said meaningfully. "You’ve got a lot resting on your shoulders.”

He managed a more cheerful smile. “True, but I can at least take a moment to sprinkle in tales of my misspent youth.”

“I wouldn't mind hearing those either.”

"Let me tell you how Drake and I devised a game called maze-tag. You can see the entrance to the maze over there, by the hedges…”

I listened to his story with an amused smile. “Well," I said when he finished, "I want to meet the Liam who plays hooky and sleeps in trees.”

He smiled wistfully. “I miss those carefree summers. But I’m afraid those days are behind me.”

***

On the next swell of the waltz, Liam guided me through the doors and back to the ballroom. He pulled me close so that we were swaying together as the music began to wind down. I was aware of the curious eyes of the assembled guests upon us. 

“This song is coming to an end, and the Masquerade with it. We’ll have to say goodnight soon."

I looked at him curiously. “Is this how it’s going to be for the next few months? Stealing a couple of minutes here and there?” I already knew the answer would be _yes_. 

He nodded. “As I said, things are different here… I should spend some time with the other girls to be fair to them." He leaned in closer for a moment. "But believe me when I say I wish this night didn’t have to end.”

I gave him my most mischievous smile. “Who says it has to?”

“Uh-oh. The last time you for that gleam in your eye, we ended up on a boat to the Statue of Liberty…”

“Do you regret it?”

“Never. What are you proposing?”

“Would you like to meet me in the gardens?”

“Yes… but my bodyguard would never allow me to go out there alone.”

I grinned. “You wouldn’t be alone. _I’ll_ be there.”

“They’d probably like that even less. We shouldn’t…”

“Then why are you smiling?”

“Because we both know how much I _want_ to.”

I gave him what I hoped was a seductive look. “In that case… I’ll be outside in twenty minutes. I hope I won’t be alone.”

“Estella…”

“Yes?”

The waltz came to an end, and everyone in the ballroom applauded. Before I walked away, Liam spun me close. 

“I’ll see you in twenty.”

I caught Maxwell's eye amongst the crowd. He was grinning like the Cheshire Cat.

***

Twenty minutes later, I was waiting for Liam in the gardens. I had no idea if he'd actually be able to get away to join me. I felt a swoop of excitement as I spotted him approaching. “Cutting it a little close there…”

He smiled.“I was trapped in a conversation about table seating for tomorrow’s picnic, but I managed to tear myself away for you… Shall we?”

I took his arm, and we headed toward the gardens together.

“It really is beautiful here at night."

He nodded thoughtfully. “I wish I could take the credit, but the gardens out here were my mother’s vision. I think it was her last wish before... Sometimes when I stroll this garden at night, I think of her…” He looked up at the stars. 

“I’m sure she appreciates that," I said quietly.

He smiled. "The garden holds a lot of good memories as well.”

“This is where you and Drake played maze-tag growing up, right?”

“Yeah. You probably think it’s silly don’t you?”

I grinned. “Sounds like fun. In fact… Tag! You’re ‘it’, Liam!”

I clapped him on the shoulder and started off running. I heard a laugh as he started to run after me.

“Cheater!”

“Too slow!”

He tried to tag me, but I managed to dance out of reach and into the hedge maze. I tried to remember everything I could about solving mazes. _Weren't you always meant to turn right?_ Liam clearly knew the route by heart because he easily caught up with me.

He dived forward to tag me, but his momentum knocked us both off-balance. We toppled over, laughing as we rolled together before coming to a stop. I lay on top of him, cradled in his arms. 

"We didn't make it to the centre," I said quietly.

He smiled, and then his expression grew serious as he gazed up at me.“There's something about you… It just feels _right_ to be around you.”

My heart was beating fast in my chest as I looked into his eyes. “Liam… I feel the same way.”

“Estella…”

He reached up to cup my cheek, his fingers warm against my skin. I leaned down, my lips capturing his. His hands curved around me as he brought me close, our bodies pressed together, but he quickly pulled away before things grew more heated.

“We _shouldn’t."_ He said gently. "I don’t know what will happen, and I…”

“I know.” 

He helped me to my feet, and we dusted down our outfits. My dress was _definitely_ going to need dry cleaning.

He looked at me intently. “What is it about you, Estella? When you’re around, you make me want to break all the rules.”

“Maybe you need someone like that in your life.”

“Maybe I do. This was unexpected, but somehow perfect.”

“Will I see you soon?” 

He nodded. “Yes, tomorrow. It’ll be very busy, but I’ll find the time…”

“I look forward to it.”

Liam lifted my hand and kissed it. My heart fluttered in my chest. 

“Until then.”

 _I want to win this contest,_ I thought as I looked at him in the moonlight. _I'll prove myself to the whole of Cordonia if that's what it takes_. 

***

Back in my room, I was about to prepare for bed when there was a knock at my door. “Maxwell! Hey!”

“I know it’s late, but we just wanted to discuss this evening.”

“Oh, _Your Grace_ ,” I said without enthusiasm as his brother stepped into view. 

I let them into my room, carefully closing the door so that we wouldn't be overheard. Maxwell was beaming. I suspected he’d drunk quite a lot during the course of the evening. He certainly seemed bouncy. The Duke was as dour as ever, a large stack of notes clutched under his arm. 

Maxwell flopped down on my bed. “I was just telling Bertrand what a triumph you were tonight! Bertrand, Estella secured the last dance with Liam!”  
  
“Hmm…” Was his brother's tepid reply. “I suppose that is something.”

“And Liam looked so happy to see her again. Look!” Maxwell thrust his phone at his brother, flicking quickly through a series of photos.

The Duke seemed entirely unimpressed. “Maxwell, Prince Liam will be required to smile at all of his suitors.”

“It’s different with Estella! He _really_ likes her.”

“How did she behave with the King?”

As Maxwell opened his mouth to speak, I glared at them both. “ _She_ can speak. _She_ was fine.” 

“I would prefer to hear my brother’s account over that of a _waitress_ with no courtly knowledge.”

“You really are the limit, _Your Grace_ ," I hissed through gritted teeth.

His eyes narrowed in response. “ _Charming_. Insolence isn’t a trait _I_ would’ve chosen for the Prince’s suitor...”

Maxwell stepped between us with a grin. “Estella just has a lot of spirit.”

“I can see that," said the Duke irritably, still glaring at me over his brother's shoulder.

“... It’s a _good_ thing," Maxwell said cheerfully. "Anyway, yes, as Estella said, she was great with the King.” Maxwell turned to me with a smile. "Are you ready for tomorrow's event?"

“Event?” I asked curiously. 

“That’s the Derby," Maxwell explained.

His brother rolled his eyes. “Do you even know what a derby is?”

I scowled back at him. “It’s a fancy horse race.”

He nodded, his expression softening a fraction. "It’ll be your first opportunity to make an impression on the press. They’ll be covering the event.”

“I assume they’re important.”

The Duke nodded. “Yes. _Very_. Everyone in Cordonia will be influenced by what they write about you. We’re a monarchy, but we serve the people. You’ll need their approval if you’re going to become queen."

"Noted."

He sighed. “Speaking of which, you should consider your attire for tomorrow. The Queen will be present at the Derby, and the right outfit will go a long way to earning her favour. I recommend going for a look that’s _modern_ to impress the Queen.”

“I’ll keep that in mind.”

Maxwell grinned. “I’ve already made an appointment for you at the boutique in the morning.”

_I knew this trip was going to get expensive._

Bertrand turned seriously to his brother. “Maxwell, might I have a moment alone with Estella?”

“Yeah, sure,” said Maxwell uncertainly, looking anxiously from me to Bertrand.

As Maxwell closed the door behind him, the Duke surveyed my dress with narrowed eyes, his gaze lingering on the grass stains.

“ _Lady_ Estella, I feel the need to remind you that you are here to compete to be the future queen, not the Prince’s mistress.”

I felt myself blushing, but I wasn’t going to let him upset me. “It didn’t do Madame de Pompadour any harm."

He glared at me, then sighed, holding out the stack of documents. “Here, notes on Cordonia’s Great Houses and their lineages. Can I suggest that you absorb as much as possible? My brother and I can help you with any long words.”

“Ha ha,” I said coolly.

As he moved toward the door, I spotted Maxwell’s phone on my bed. 

“Maxwell forgot this.”

He took it without acknowledgement, giving me a final withering glance. “We’ll speak more tomorrow, right before we head out for the Derby. Good night.”

“Good night.”

As the door closed behind him, I hoped his notes were better than his personality.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Song lyrics at the start of this chapter are from Candy Store by Laurence O'Keefe and Kevin Murphy.


	5. Sweetest Freedom

  
  


_Every duke and earl and peer is here_

_Everyone who should be here is here_

_What a smashing, positively dashing spectacle_

When I woke up the next morning, I felt jet lagged. It also took me a few moments to remember why I was sleeping in a museum exhibit. Somehow though, I managed to drag myself out of bed. Cordonia is six hours ahead of New York. I definitely felt like I should still be asleep.

 _Derby. You’ve got to dress for a Derby_. I unpacked my suitcase, fastidiously hanging anything creasable on a coat hanger. Then I stood back to survey my wardrobe options with a critical eye. I decided that the pink floral skirt and white top I’d worn to my cousin’s wedding would be fine for a derby. I hoped it was a sufficiently modern ensemble to appease his Dukeship. All I needed to buy was a hat or fascinator. I threw on some jeans and a black tank top and made my way down to the boutique. 

I entered to find Olivia putting on the finishing touches to her outfit. She was wearing an elegant turquoise dress, with an extremely large, yellow, floral fascinator perched on her head like a roosting cockatoo. 

She greeted me with a smirk. “Oh, I’m surprised to see _you_ here. I thought you’d have gone home by now.” 

I ignored her and started trying on headwear. _I'd always appreciated a good hat._ She caught my eye in the mirror as I adjusted a large-brimmed hat to a jaunty angle.

“Surely you’ve realised that you don’t have a chance at winning.”

I smiled back at her. “Olivia, surely you’ve realised… You don’t need to hurt others to protect yourself.”

“That’s not what…”

I turned around to face her. I wasn’t entirely sure if I was trying to extend an olive branch or just psych her out a bit. “Look, I know we’re set up to be rivals, but that doesn't mean we have to dislike each other.”

“But, this is about Liam…”

She gave herself away when she said his name. For just a moment, everything about her softened. 

I met her eyes. This time I was genuine. “Whatever else is going on, we don’t have to hurt each other.”

She peered at me, trying to figure out my intentions. “I don’t know what kind of game you’re playing, Estella, but you… you’re not going to fool me.” She turned away and strode towards the door, but then paused and turned back. “Look, I know you’re probably going to embarrass us all with your lack of fashion sense later, but… Try to avoid doing that. A runway-worthy ensemble is going to get you noticed by the press…" She shrugged. "But that’s just my recommendation.”

I raised a sceptical eyebrow. “Uh-huh. Is this like the last time you gave me advice?”

“No, I…" She shook her head. "Forget it. I’ll see you at the races later… And I won’t be holding back.”

I met her eyes. “I’d be insulted if you were.”

She nodded curtly and walked out of the boutique.

I turned to survey the racks of dresses. I definitely didn’t think runway-worthy was in my budget, _assuming I could even trust Olivia’s advice_. I’d have to go modern and hope it went some way towards impressing the Queen. 

I settled on a large pink and cream fascinator and a statement necklace of large pink stones that probably bordered on garish. 

While I ate breakfast, I frantically googled everything that I could about Cordonia and etiquette. _Who knew there were so many damn etiquette blogs and YouTube channels?_

***

Shortly before the time to head to the derby, Maxwell arrived. He was still in good spirits. I was beginning to think he must always be cheery. Maybe Maxwell was the universe’s way of balancing out his brother's sourness.

“So let’s review. At the lawn picnic, you’ll have to eat with perfect civility…”

“Don't worry, I've got this, Maxwell. I won’t stuff my mouth, pick my teeth or stab your brother with a fork... No matter how tempting that last one might be.”

Maxwell grinned. "Speaking of Bertrand, how would you address him?"

"Your Exultant Majesty, Supreme Commander of the Universe?"

Maxwell laughed. “He’d probably be thrilled if you called him that… But, no. Bertrand is just ‘Your Grace’ to you.

"As if he'd let me forget."

“And in case it comes up, his full title is Duke Bertrand Beaumont of Ramsford also known as Duke Ramsford.”

“Got it.”

There was a knock on the door, and Maxwell answered it. It was, of course, my least favourite Duke. He was still dressed in his brown suit and sweater vest. Clearly _he_ had no desire to impress the Queen with snappy modern attire.

“Maxwell. How’s progress?” He asked the question as if I were a naughty puppy that Maxwell was training not to chew his slippers.

Maxwell smiled. "As planned! Estella and I were just about to review her entrance to the Derby and how to get out of a car without flashing the press.”

“Adjust skirt before moving and keep your knees and feet together while swivelling out,” I repeated robotically.

Bertrand was entirely unimpressed. “Anyone who can run an internet search can spout off that kind of protocol." I wondered if he somehow knew I'd been googling.

"Still, it's important to know," Maxwell replied cheerfully.

Bertrand frowned. "Maxwell, I hope you don’t mind if I take the liberty of testing Estella myself.”

Maxwell sighed, looking at me sympathetically. “I’m pretty sure it doesn’t actually matter whether or not I mind…”

“Indeed.” He walked over to me. “Estella, let’s pretend I’m meeting you for the first time." He cleared his throat. "Hello. It’s a pleasure to meet you, Lady Estella Brook.” _Apparently he could be polite when he wanted to be._

“The pleasure’s all mine, Duke Ramsford.” 

I curtsied. Bertrand took my hand with his right hand and kissed the back of it.

He looked at me seriously. “Now, what did I do wrong?”

The googling paid off. “You used the wrong hand. You should have taken my hand with your _left_ hand. Otherwise, it’s an insult.”

Maxwell grinned and gave me a thumbs up behind his brother’s head. 

The Duke was clearly surprised. “Very observant of you. You’ll need to watch out for the slightest shifts and signals from those around you. It’s not enough for you to know _your_ role. You have to be able to read the other person.” 

“Don’t worry, I know how to keep an eye out for subtle signals of disapproval.” I looked at him meaningfully. “As well as less subtle ones."

He observed me thoughtfully for a moment then shook his head, as if deciding I was still a lost cause. “Don’t get too complacent. You’re only ever one mistake away from a scandal, and unless you master courtly procedure I’ve still got half a mind to send you back to the farm.”

I just glared at him. For a moment he glared back before turning to his brother. “Anyway, the real reason I’m here is to inform you that our limo awaits to take us to Honeyhill Downs...”

***

As soon as we were in the limo, the brothers began to prepare me for my initial encounter with the Cordonian press. 

“Now, as we have mentioned earlier, how you come across to the Cordonian people is very important, and the press can make or break you," Bertrand warned. "What the press writes, the people read. If the people love you, then it’ll be easy to convince them you deserve their prince.”

Maxwell nodded. “So you’ve got to impress the press, so to speak. You’ll be surrounded by them as soon as we pull up to the Downs.”

“What kind of questions should I be expecting?”

Bertrand considered before answering. “It’ll depend on who’s doing the interview… They’ll start with easy questions, asking who you are, where you’re from, that sort of thing.”

"Yeah," agreed Maxwell. “People want to understand your story… so think about how you want them to see you.”

I looked at Maxwell thoughtfully. _That was pretty good advice. Maybe I would get it embossed on a journal or something._

"Then there'll be the hard questions," said Bertrand. “I don’t know what they’ll ask, but…”

“Be myself?” I suggested hopefully.

He looked at me contemptuously. “Heavens, no. Be a future queen who loves Cordonia and acts with grace and poise." He pinched the bridge of his nose. "And for the love of king and country, if they ask you about Cordonian apples, make sure you take the question seriously.”

I decided to show off my newly-found Google knowledge. “Because it’s the national fruit and one of your most important exports?”

He nodded. “Indeed. How confident are you feeling about this?”

I smiled. "I’m ready for a challenge. I'm excited to see what they ask." 

It was clearly the wrong answer. He glared at me. “I hope your overconfidence won’t be your downfall.”

“Well, I believe in you,” said Maxwell kindly.

His brother said nothing. He was checking his phone.

***

The limo pulled around, arriving at the racetrack. Ladies and gentlemen wearing bright colours and big hats paraded through a throng of press reporters jockeying for interviews.

“I feel like I’m in My Fair Lady," I said, looking out at the view. 

Bertrand rubbed his forehead wearily. “There will be absolutely _no_ singing. This is _the_ outdoor event of the social season…”

Maxwell gave me a reassuring smile and opened the door of the limo. “This is your stop, my lady.”

“You’re coming with me, right?”

“No," Bertrand replied coolly. " _We_ don’t need to be interviewed.”

“Okay… but where should I go after I talk to the press?”

Maxwell smiled. “The ladies vying for Liam’s hand have their own section. Just continue down the red carpet and search for the pink tents. You’ll be fine.”

“We’ll see you out there," said Bertrand. His tone implied that he would prefer not to ever see me again. 

I slid carefully out of the car. I was barely able to take two steps out of the door before a swarm of reporters approached me, nearly hitting me in the face with a flurry of microphones. I glanced back briefly at the Beaumonts. Bertrand had his head down, concentrating on his phone. Maxwell gave me an encouraging nod.

“Over here,” called a smiling man in a hoodie and cap. “Donald Brine from the _Cordonia Broadcasting Center._ We’ve heard about the new lady on the social season! What’s your name?”

I gave him my warmest smile. “Lady Estella Brook. I'm representing House Beaumont.”

“Our viewers care about getting the real story. Tell us about yourself!”

I thought back to Maxwell's words: _think about how you want them to see you_. 

"I'm the American lone wolf," I said, with what I hoped was a mischievous smile. "I'm fresh from New York, and I'm already falling in love with your beautiful country."

“Do you think that affects your chances against the other ladies?”

“Love knows no borders.”

He nodded. “A fascinating spin… “Now, I’ve heard early rumours that you’re Prince Liam’s favourite…” _I wondered where the rumours had come from_. “What do you think makes you stand out?”

 _Okay, Estella_ , I thought to myself, _time to take control of the narrative._

“Prince Liam noticed me because I was his waitress.”

His mouth opened in surprise. "In New York?"

"Absolutely."

“A real Cinderella story! Can I get a photo of you?”

“Of course!”

“Throw us your best look.”

Trying to remember everything I'd ever absorbed about looking good in photos, I posed for the cameras with a poised smile. 

“Wonderful. Just wonderful. You’re very photogenic…” I could hear him murmur as he typed some notes on his phone. " _The American_ sweeps the Derby red carpet."

An attractive woman in a designer suit lifted her hand. “Lady Estella, Ana de Luca here on behalf of _Trend_ , fashion and celebrity news magazine. I have a few questions…"

***

When Ana de Luca concluded her interview, she looked at me thoughtfully. “Glad to have someone interesting like you in the running...” _Hopefully that meant it had gone well._

As the press moved on to interview Penelope, I waved goodbye, smiling at more photographers as I proceeded toward the field. Maxwell had told me to look for a pink tent, but I couldn’t find one anywhere. It was difficult to see anything through the throng of attendees. There were plenty of white tents, but no pink ones. Eventually I realized I'd walked way too far. I was approaching the stables. 

“ _Lost_ by any chance, Estella?” It was Drake, watching me with wry amusement. 

I felt myself blush. “A little. Maxwell told me to look for a pink tent?”

Drake rolled his eyes. “He’s wrong. You’re looking for the large white tent next to the starting line… Can’t miss it.”

“You’re not coming with me?” I asked curiously.

“Nope… I’m due to meet Liam. He has his own private tent. We usually just hang out there and get some drinks, watch the ceremonies, place our bets on the horses… It’s pretty sweet.”

I decided to see if he'd let me tag along. I'd much rather watch the derby with Liam than Olivia, even if Drake would be there too. "In that case… I’m going with you.”

He was clearly taken aback. “What?”

I shrugged with feigned nonchalance. “It sounds more fun where you’re going. Take me with you.”

“I don’t think you’re supposed to…” He trailed off uncertainly.

I quirked an eyebrow. “What are they really going to do, Drake? Put me in Princess Jail?”

He shook his head, but he didn’t stop me. I followed him in silence until he stopped in front of one of the private, enclosed tents at the edge of the racetrack.

“Here," he said, handing me a pass. "You go ahead. I’m going to grab some beers for us.”

I ducked inside the tent, feeling a flutter of excitement at seeing Liam again. He had his back to me and was staring intently at the racetrack.

“You look thoughtful. What’s on your mind?”

He turned with a surprised smile. “Estella! I was just…”

I smiled back. He really did look handsome in a smart suit and blue ascot. “Just what?”

“If I’m being honest, I was just thinking about you..." _My heart leapt._ "... About all of the ladies, actually." _It_ _swooped_ _disappointedly_. "I was wondering where you were in the stands…”

"Well, lucky for you. I came to find you first."

“How did you manage it?”

“Drake was kind enough to let me in.”

Liam chuckled. “Drake’s never been one to follow the rules… Maybe that’s why he’s my best friend.”

I looked at Liam curiously. “I got the impression he was almost keeping an eye on me. He took pity on me when I got lost.”

Liam blushed. “Ah... you’ve caught me. I did ask Drake to keep an eye out for you.”

I smiled. “Don’t you think I can take care of myself?”

He looked at me with touching sincerity. “Honestly, you seem like one of the most capable people I’ve ever met. It’s only that I know these events can be chaotic… intimidating… I hate the thought of you feeling lost when I can’t be there with you.” He looked at me earnestly. “I hope you’re not terribly offended.”

“I’m not offended at all, Liam. That’s very thoughtful of you.”

I took a step towards him, and for a moment he stared at me longingly. Then he gave his head a small shake. “Ah, they’re leading the horses to the starting gates now.”

We watched as majestic-looking thoroughbreds pranced forward, tossing their heads and nickering.

“I love watching the horses,” he said quietly. “This is one of my favourite events.”

I didn’t think it was the time to voice my real opinions on the ethics of horse racing, so I settled for saying, “What strikes me is that they’re so trapped.”

He looked at me thoughtfully. “I’ve never thought of it that way before. If it’s any consolation to you, I’ve visited where these horses spend their days, and the fields and stables are magnificent.”

“That’s something, I suppose.”

He sighed. “Nothing like a little gilding to make a cage bearable.”

At that point Drake reappeared with three beers.

***

The race concluded with Drake’s choice of horse, Marabelle’s Dream, winning. Apparently that meant Liam had to do push-ups while I sat on his back. I tried not to be too obvious about sneaking appreciative glances at Liam when he pulled off his shirt for the push-ups. He was in ridiculously good shape.

“Never let it be said that I’ve ever backed out of a bet,” said Liam with a smile, retrieving his shirt and blazer. 

“And you lose all the time, so that’s really saying something,” said Drake with a grin. Watching them like this, I was slowly beginning to understand their friendship. That, or they were secretly in love, and I’d intruded upon their shirtless push-up flirting. 

Liam shook his head in amusement. “I must’ve done something very wrong at some point for you to be my best friend.”

“I think it’s part of my job to keep you humble.” Drake snorted. “Hard to do with all these gorgeous women chasing after you.”

Liam smiled at me. “Speaking of which… now that the races are over, it’s probably time to get back to the social barrage. Next up is the lawn picnic.”

I nodded. “Yeah, I should get back to where the ladies are.” I grimaced. “Bertrand and Maxwell are probably looking for me.”

Drake looked from me to Liam and sighed. “I’ll go see where they are.”

As Drake left the tent, Liam turned to me. “Thank you for coming here, Estella. I’m not exaggerating when I say that you made my day.”

“Yeah, well. You’ve made mine too.”

His eyes lit up. “You don’t know how glad I am to hear that.”

He leaned in toward me, our lips lightly brushing.

“Ahem!” Drake had reappeared. Liam and I quickly moved apart. “I just saw Maxwell run out to bring the car around. The ladies are a few tents down, and they’re headed to the lawn picnic. I can show Estella over there.”

I smiled reluctantly. “If you must.”  
  


***

Drake walked me over to a large white tent. “I guess I’ll leave you here. Good luck.”

“Thanks for helping me when I was lost earlier.”

He almost smiled. “No worries.”

As Drake walked off, I stepped into the white tent. Olivia looked at me incredulously. “Look who finally showed up. _Fashionably late_ has its limits, you know.”

Hana looked at me with concern. She was dressed in a flattering, pink, floral dress. “Estella, I was worried about you. What happened?”

 _To gloat or not to gloat?_ I didn’t want to get Liam into trouble, so I settled my expression into one of faux sheepishness. “Oh, well, I… kind of got lost.” _Got lost and got to perch on a shirtless Liam’s back._

Kiara looked at me pityingly. “It’s only day two and you can’t even keep up? Très embarrassant.”

Hana gave me a sympathetic smile. “I know it can be really oppressive… how the press swarmed us all when we arrived… All of the pressure to be perfect and keep up appearances can be pretty overwhelming.”

“Hana, how do you handle all the attention?” I was genuinely interested to hear her thoughts. This all seemed to be second nature to her.

“Well… I guess when I’m up there, I try to think of the person that I want everyone to see, and I act like that person.”

Another piece of useful advice. I shifted it around in my head with Maxwell’s snippet of wisdom earlier, like pieces of a puzzle. _Think about how you want them to see you, and then just act like that person._

“Thank you, Hana,” I said genuinely. “So, now the races are over, what happens next?”

She grinned. “Now the real party starts!”

“The best party ever?”

She shook her head from side to side playfully. “Well, if your idea of the best party ever is a tea party with lemonade, finger sandwiches, and butter cookies…”

“To be honest, I love a good tea party! I know some people think they’re childish, but I can’t help myself.” I was _so_ ready for some tea and cake. I’d spent a semester studying in England. It left me with lingering cravings for scones and cream.

Hana smiled, and we began to make our way towards the cars. “What’s not to love? There’s nothing cosier than eating scones off a pretty set of china on a sunny afternoon. When I was little, I didn’t have that many toys to play with because my parents thought they were frivolous… But I was allowed a tea set, so that I could learn to be a proper hostess…”

I felt a stab of pity for her. “Naturally.”

“I spent lots of happy afternoons sipping tea with all my favourite guests… Mr. Sock, Miss Lemon Curd, and Princess Snickerdoodle.”

“Uh…”

She smiled wistfully. “Like I said, I wasn’t allowed to have toys… so I had to get a little creative.”

“I just hope the company today can keep up with Mr Sock.”

She grinned. “Oh, I _much_ prefer your company. You actually talk to me!”

A black town car rolled to a stop near Hana, and the driver got out to open the door for her.

“Well, this is me, Estella. I’ll see you at the lawn party.”

“Looking forward to it.” I really liked Hana. Talking to her didn’t feel like swimming in shark infested waters the way speaking to Olivia did. I knew there was still a chance that she was just a brilliant actress and was plotting my downfall, but that just kept me on my toes.

A familiar limo pulled up in front of me. The driver came around to open the door for me as Maxwell rolled down the window. 

“Hop in!”

***  
  


I slid carefully into the limo.

“I hope you had a good time,” said Maxwell cheerfully. “I didn’t spot you with the other ladies.”

“It was--”

Bertrand immediately cut me off. “Enough pleasantries. We only have time for business.” I could tell that he was seething. “What on earth were you thinking in telling the press you were a _waitress_?”

I sighed. “It was the logical choice. They were always going to find out. It isn’t a secret. I want the fact that I was a waitress to be my unique spin, not some gossip unearthed by the press that could be weaponized against me."

Maxwell nodded in agreement. “Estella has got a point, Bertrand.” 

"You want to be known as _Cinderella_?" The Duke asked incredulously.

I shrugged. "I really don’t think there’s any harm in the Cinderella comparisons.... It’s quite romantic. People love a fairy tale."

Bertrand didn’t look at all convinced. “Was that Lady Hana Lee I saw you with before we pulled up? You two looked friendly.”

“Hana and I are becoming friends.”

“Hmm… _interesting_. An alliance with her family isn’t the worst thing as long as you don’t let it distract you from the Prince.” He looked at me seriously. “Your focus today should be on impressing the Queen. She holds more sway than anyone else at court…”

“Even more than the King?”

Bertrand nodded. “Socially, yes. Don’t underestimate her. Thankfully, you heeded my recommendation to wear something modern. That’ll curry her favour.”

“Yeah, that’ll help, but more than that…” said Maxwell. “You need to get her to like you.”

“Then tell me what she likes.”

Maxwell considered. “The Queen enjoys fashion and likes a woman with grace and style. She tends to favour the ladies who are originally from Cordonia, so you’re at a disadvantage there.”

“I see…”

Maxwell smiled. “But I’m sure your natural charm will win her over.”

Bertrand snorted derisively. 

“Thanks for the vote of confidence...” I said, rolling my eyes.

“She has a high regard for royal protocol,” said Bertrand. “You should call her ‘Your Majesty’ when you first meet her and ‘ma’am’ thereafter. Etiquette-wise, don’t forget that you must always stay a step or two behind her when keeping company with her.”

“Oh! She also loves to play games and can be quite competitive,” Maxwell added. “Ultimately she’s concerned about how the Prince’s bride will be partly responsible for Cordonia’s future. Keep that in mind when talking to her.”

“Got it.”

“I hope you do,” said Bertrand tersely. “For the love of Cordonia, please don’t talk to _her_ about the fact you were a waitress.” 

***

A short time later we arrived at the picnic. The driver opened the limo door, and Maxwell took my arm as I stood up. There was a beautiful marquee and numerous elegantly-decorated tables set for tea. 

“Wow, this looks like something out of Downton Abbey,” I said cheerfully. I was much happier attending a picnic than I had been a horse race. 

“ _You’ve_ been to an abbey?” Bertrand asked doubtfully. “I find that hard to believe.”

I’d actually visited plenty of abbeys as a tourist, but I wasn’t going to waste my breath on telling him that. 

Maxwell answered. “It’s a TV show, brother. Pretty good, if I say so myself. Very upstairs, downstairs, that sort of thing.”

Bertrand groaned. “Good god, television? Don’t bring that up in front of the Queen… Now, Estella, go stand over there with the rest of the ladies in the receiving line…”

I was glad to get away from him. 

“Welcome to the tea party,” said Hana cheerfully as I took a place in-between her and Olivia. 

“Cutting it awfully close there…” Olivia said quietly. 

“Did you miss me?”

Olivia didn’t reply. I followed her gaze to a herald who announced the coming of the Queen of Cordonia. The Queen was a graceful woman, elegantly dressed in a smart silver suit. 

“Welcome all,” she said to the assembled nobles. “I’m so delighted you could join us this afternoon…”

The Queen made her way through the crowd, greeting guests. There was a woman on the Queen’s left escorting her. She was beautiful, with neat blonde hair and a striking teal dress. I thought I recognised her from my googling. 

Hana leaned over to whisper to me. “I wonder who that lady with the Queen is.”

“Hmm.. I think she might be called Madeleine, wasn’t she eng---”

“That's _Countess_ Madeleine of Fydelia to you,” said Olivia. She turned to Hana. “If you haven’t heard about her, then you really are behind the times.”

“Her name was all over the tabloids at one point,” whispered Penelope. “She was betrothed to the former Crown Prince until he abdicated.”

Kiara nodded. “It was particularly embarrassing for her to be thrown over like that. She was the one who was chosen during the social season, after all. To go through all that and not be royal…”

Olivia’s mouth pouted in feigned pity. “Poor thing must be the Queen’s guest as a consolation prize.”

The Queen walked down the line of suitors, talking briefly with each. At last, she stopped in front of me. I stepped forward and curtsied.

“It’s an honour to meet you, Your Majesty.”

Countess Madeleine surveyed me curiously. “Ma’am, this is the one I was telling you about.”

The Queen smiled. “A pleasure to meet you, Lady Estella. So far the press speaks well of you. They’re touting you as ‘The American,’ the foreigner trying to win our Prince’s hand…” She frowned. “I hope your origin of birth won’t keep you from committing to Cordonia should you become queen…”

“Of course not, ma’am. I’d take my commitment very seriously.”

She examined me thoughtfully. “Lady Estella, tell me, what do you think is the best quality for a ruler to have?”

I thought fast. “A sense of duty, ma’am. Loyalty to the kingdom you represent and the people you serve will carry you through any crisis.”

“Good answer.”

 _Phew_. “Thank you ma’am.”

She continued her questioning. “As heads of state, we have a responsibility to the people. The press acts as their eyes. We must always portray a sense of calm and dignity. If the rulers appear in control, then everyone will be reassured. Hysteria benefits nobody. Do you agree?”

“Ma’am, whilst I believe that a stoic leader makes for stoic people, one must also always monitor the public mood so as not to appear out of touch with the people’s concerns and emotions. Sometimes empathy is as essential as stoicism.”

The Queen examined me intently. I couldn’t tell if she approved or disapproved of my answer. Countess Madeleine quickly stepped forwards. “Ma’am, I hate to interrupt, but it’s time to begin the game.”

“Yes, thank you for reminding me.” She turned to the assembled suitors. “Know that one of you will be the next queen, and I expect you to represent Cordonia well. Madeleine here has been the embodiment of dignity and devotion. It is my hope that you may all learn from her example.”

Madeleine beamed. “Thank you, ma’am.”

“Now,” said the Queen. “Everyone, please, follow me. It’s time to begin the ceremonial croquet match.”

She led us in a procession across the lawn. As we approached a bend, the Queen began to turn, threatening to bump into me. I calmly stepped back, maintaining my position behind the Queen. I had the uncanny feeling that she was testing me. 

Across the lawn, a number of croquet hoops had been set up. Prince Liam waited near the game equipment as the procession approached, greeting each lady as they passed. As I reached him, I held out my hand, and he brushed his lips over my knuckles, lowering his voice. 

“Lady Estella, I’m so pleased to see you.”

“Prince Liam, is it wrong that I want to kiss you in front of all these other ladies?”

“Maybe a little. You know that’d cause a real scandal.”

“That’s half the fun of it.”

He grinned as I curtsied to him.

The Queen stepped forwards. “Custom has it that the Queen and the Prince play a round of croquet with two of the season’s suitors. I have chosen Madeleine as my partner.”

 _Uh oh, that was not good news_. There was an immediate flurry of whispers from the noble ladies around me.

“She’s a suitor?” Whispered an aghast Penelope. 

“Pas bon!”

Olivia was openly glaring. “That scheming little…”

Madeleine beamed confidently as she remained by the Queen’s side.

Prince Liam smiled, momentarily catching my eye. “As for myself, I shall choose Lady Estella.”

I felt a rush of excitement. 

“Estella?” Olivia said in outrage. “But…”

“Shh. The Prince has made his choice,” Penelope said sadly.

***

We separated into two teams, grabbing our mallets and setting up at the beginning of the circuit.

Liam leaned in to whisper to me after taking his first shot. “Looks like we found another way to steal a few moments.”

I smiled back. “You’re lucky I know how to play croquet.” I stepped up to take my shot, calmly knocking the ball through the hoop.

“Nice swing,” said Liam appreciatively. 

The game proceeded. The Queen and Madeleine deep in conversation. It was obvious that they got on extremely well. It was patently clear that Madeleine was my main rival at this stage in the competition.

When we reached the end of the circuit, Liam looked at me with a smile. “No pressure or anything, but if you hit the peg in the center, we’ll win the game!”

“That’s an easy shot! I can definitely make that.”

“You’re up!”

I remembered Maxwell’s words about the Queen being competitive. Perhaps I was expected to deliberately lose the game. _There was absolutely no way I was going to do that_. The whole situation had ignited my competitive instincts. I wanted to win. 

I carefully lined up my shot, and the ball rolled into the center peg.

Liam grinned. “I believe that means victory is ours.”

The Queen smiled at me. “I’m glad you had the guts to finish the game. Too many ladies have thrown the game on purpose to impress me. That’s why I decided to make it a _point_ to lose this match.”

“You mean…?”

“It was a test… and you passed.” _Ughh_ , I wanted to win fair and square, not just because she threw the game. I almost wanted to demand a rematch.

She looked me up and down. “It was a pleasure to make your acquaintance, Lady Estella. You’ve shown yourself to be unlike many of the ladies at court, which is no small feat in my eyes.”

“You honour me, ma’am.” _I hoped the Duke was watching this._

The Queen addressed the other ladies on the field. “Thank you all for coming. I look forward to seeing you at the next event.”

***

Everyone settled down for tea. As Liam and I took a seat at a table, Hana approached us. 

“Estella, Prince Liam, that was well played.”

“Thank you, Lady Hana,” said Liam with a smile. “Won’t you sit with us?”

“I’d love to!”

As waiters brought around piping hot tea, cream, and tiny sandwiches, Maxwell and Drake joined us.

“Hey! We finally get to eat!” Maxwell said enthusiastically, loading up his plate with tiny food. 

Drake examined a small finger sandwich sceptically. “If you can call _this_ eating.”

“Drake, you would complain about free gourmet food.” I was beginning to wonder if he was ever enthusiastic about anything. 

“I’m just saying I’m simple…”

I smirked. “I don’t think anyone would argue with that.”

Drake shook his head, but there was a small smile on his face.

Maxwell poked me gently in the arm. “Anyway, onto the big question! Estella, do you think you impressed the Queen?”

“Well… I think I was passable.” I turned to Liam. “Do you think the Queen approves of me?”

Liam nodded with a smile. “Yes, I think you performed quite gracefully in front of her.”

Maxwell grinned. “Fantastic! It’s like watching a bird learn to fly on its own.”

I leaned in to whisper to him. “Where’s your brother anyway?”

Maxwell rubbed his neck awkwardly. “He stayed long enough to discover Madeleine was a suitor, then he sort of wandered off muttering darkly about ruin and damage limitation.”

“What a vote of confidence.” So he hadn’t seen me impress the Queen. _Great_. 

Drake looked gloomily around the table. “All the little sandwiches are gone, and I’m still starving.”

“Mm,” agreed Hana. “I could happily have eaten more of those cakes.”

“I could really go for a cronut right now,” I said absentmindedly. 

“A what?” Liam asked in confusion. 

“I think you mean donut, Estella,” said Hana kindly. 

“You haven’t heard of cronuts before?”

“Can’t say that I have,” added Maxwell.

“Nope,” said Drake. 

I looked around at them. “Really? Okay, guys, we have a _critical_ problem to fix. None of you have had cronuts.”

“Please tell me it doesn’t have anything to do with crows,” said Maxwell warily. 

“Maxwell, I’m not even going to ask... A cronut is the sumptuous inside of a croissant mixed with the glazed outside of a donut. It’s one of the best pastries ever invented.” An appealing idea suddenly came to me. “Why don’t we all sneak out for cronuts tonight? We passed a bakery on the way…”

***

That evening, Maxwell threw open the bakery door. “We need all of your finest cronuts, please!” The bakery staff blinked back at him in bemusement. 

Hana smiled. “I _think_ you’re supposed to go to the counter, not just shout from the doorway.”

“Like normal people,” said Drake in bewilderment. 

“I’ll handle this,” I said with a smile. “You all take a seat.”

I ordered the pastries. Once they were ready, I took the tray and joined the others at a table. As I sat down, Liam draped his arm around my chair, and I leaned in a little closer toward him. 

“Well, these look delicious,” said Liam, examining the cronuts. 

“What’s more important is how they taste,” said Maxwell eagerly. “Let me at ‘em.”

Everyone reached in and grabbed a cronut. 

“All together?” I suggested. 

“One…” 

“Two…” 

“Th--”

“Delicious!” Maxwell said, cutting Drake off through a mouthful of cronut. 

Drake rolled his eyes, “Maxwell.”

Maxwell grinned. “I regret nothing. Mmmmmmm… Flaky, crusty, glazed cloud of flavor…”

Hana looked impressed too. “I’ve never tasted anything so light and fluffy and sweet!”

Liam nodded. “This rivals the finest pastries from the palace chefs. Even Drake is smiling.”

“What?” Drake said indignantly. “I like a good dessert. Who doesn’t?”

“What did I tell you?” I said with a smile. “Have faith in me.”

Maxwell had already finished his cronut. “The last time I had something _this_ good, Bertrand hired a pastry chef from a Michelin-starred restaurant to make his birthday cake.”

I looked at him in confusion. “Wait a second. Are you saying that Bertrand has enough friends to throw a party?”

Maxwell smiled. “He’s a powerful man. You’d be surprised how many people at least pretend to be his friend.”

Liam smiled at me sympathetically. “I take it this means you and Bertrand aren’t getting on very well?”

“Not exactly,” I said with a small smile. 

Liam nodded thoughtfully. “Believe it or not, there was a time when Bertrand would’ve been here with us tonight.”

“Does he even know how to have fun?” I asked doubtfully. I couldn’t imagine him willingly setting foot in a bakery. It was hard to imagine him anywhere that wasn’t a fancy soiree. 

Maxwell nodded earnestly. “Yeah, he wasn’t always like he is now.”

“ _Really_?” I asked sceptically. 

“Yes,” said Liam. “We were all close, once. But he’s grown distant in the past few years… I’m not entirely sure why.” I presumed Bertrand's alleged personality change must have something to do with House Beaumont's financial situation.

“Aw, Bertrand’s gonna be fine,” said Maxwell quickly. “He’s just sorting some things out. You know what? I’ll even bring him back a cronut.”

“That’s sweet of you,” said Hana. 

“I really can’t imagine Bertrand eating a cronut,” I said doubtfully. 

“What do you imagine he eats?” Drake asked.

“Foie gras with a sneer,” I replied.

Drake smirked. 

Maxwell came back with a boxed cronut. “This will cheer him up.”

Drake shook his head. “It’s a noble thought, but we’ll see if that cronut actually makes it back to the palace…”

“I hope you’re not implying I’d _eat_ my brother’s cronut.”

“Wouldn’t you?”

Maxwell grinned. “Well, it’s the thought that counts anyway, right?”

***

As we walked back to the Palace, Liam and I fell into step, a little way away from the others. We were still under the watchful eye of his bodyguard, Bastien. 

“After a day spent answering to the press and the Queen, this has been the sweetest freedom.”

“I thought we could all use a little fun.”

“It’s more than that, it’s… really seeing everything.”

Liam took a moment to look at the street and shops around him. “It’s strange. I’m the potential leader of my own country, yet there’s so much of it I haven’t experienced.”

“Well… You must be busy most of the time.” I smiled at him mischievously. “That’s why I’m here. I can be your escape into your own backyard.”

He nodded. “Being an icon of sorts robs me of certain luxuries. Like visiting people, going out with friends.... Spending time with you.”

We stopped walking for a moment and just gazed at each other. I’d only known Liam for a few days, but I already had a really good feeling about him. _He had the most amazingly blue eyes._

“Liam… you know you should be fair to the other ladies.”

He took a step closer to me. “Maybe I don’t have to when I’m outside the palace.”

My heart started to beat faster. “Oh? Scandalous.”

He gently moved a strand of hair away from my eyes. “Estella, thank you for another rare glimpse beyond my princely world.”

A thought occurred to me. “Liam, speaking of your princely world, I’d really like to learn more about Cordonia. Would it be okay if I investigated the Palace library and did some reading?”

He smiled warmly. “Of course, Estella. You can borrow whatever you like. It means a lot to me that you’re taking such an interest in my home.”

“Well, it only seems fitting. There’s a chance it could be my home too.”

He looked at me earnestly. “You have no idea how happy I am to have you here."

“Hey!” Drake called, breaking the spell. “You two are falling behind. Catch up or we’ll leave you!”

Reluctantly, we caught up with the others. 

***

The next morning, I awoke early to an insistent knock at my door. Quickly changing clothes, I answered it to find Maxwell and Bertrand outside.

“Rise and shine, Estella,” said the ever-bouncy Maxwell.

“...Ugnngh?”

The Duke rolled his eyes. “I’ll assume that was the appropriate morning greeting followed by the proper use of my title.”

“Why are you both here so early?” I turned to Maxwell. “And how are you so cheerful?”

He grinned. “We just heard where the next social event will be, and if we’re going to arrive there with everyone else, we should get packed. It’s going to be fuuuuun!”

“Where are we going?”

“To the northern region of Cordonia,” he replied enthusiastically. “To the snow!”

 _Uh oh_. I vaguely remembered Maxwell mentioning skiing. I hadn’t been entirely open with him about my complete lack of skiing experience. “Snow? I’m more of a hot chocolate by the fire kind of girl…”

He was still grinning. “I promise there’ll be plenty of that too.”

“Awesome.” _Maybe this wouldn’t be so bad after all_. 

Bertrand’s expression remained solemn. “I wouldn’t celebrate so soon. The place we’re staying at belongs to the Lythikos duchy.”

I groaned. “So we’re going into Olivia’s home territory?”

“Indeed. If you want to get time with Prince Liam, you’re going to have to beat her at her own game.”

“Time to think tactically, I guess.”

Bertrand nodded. “We will leave you to pack. We depart in two hours.”

***

Shortly before we were due to leave, I tracked Maxwell down. 

“Hey, can you point me in the direction of the library? I have Liam’s permission to borrow some books, and I figure I’ll need some reading material if we’re spending two weeks in Olivia’s ice palace.”

Maxwell smiled. “Sure, it’s a few doors down from the ballroom. Look for the oak door. You can’t miss it.” For a moment his smile faltered. “If you see Bertrand in there, you can say bye to him. It tends to be where he lurks to work.”

“Bye?” I asked curiously.

“Yeah,” said Maxwell, rubbing the back of his neck. “Apparently some urgent estate business has come up, and he isn’t coming to Lythikos with us.”

“I see…” 

***

The Palace library was a long room with row after row of shelves. I wished I had longer to explore. It was a truly beautiful room, complete with ornamental globes and various other scientific instruments. 

As I tried to find the history section, there was a tap on my shoulder. I turned to see Bertrand surveying me coolly.

“Oh,” I said warily. “ _Your Grace_.”

“I assume you’re lost, Lady Estella.”

“Witty... Liam told me it was okay to borrow some books on Cordonian history.”

Bertrand sighed. “I’d much prefer if you didn’t use his first name so much in public. There’s protocol to follow, you realise.”

I looked around the empty library. “There’s literally nobody to overhear.”

“Be that as it may.”

“Can you please point me in the direction of the history books? _I_ have to leave for Lythikos soon.”

Bertrand reached over to a nearby shelf and handed me a book. I glanced at it sceptically. It was a paperback with a dragon on the cover. 

“I meant actual history. Wait, _The Crown and the Flame_ is set in Cordonia?”

Bertrand groaned. “Do you know anything about this country? It may be popular fiction, but it’s one of our biggest cultural exports.”

“I know things about Cordonia. I’m just not a big fantasy fiction fan.” I thought around for some Cordonian trivia. “I know there was a major Rembrandt retrospective here five years ago.”

He looked at me with tired bemusement. “Yes, because that knowledge will certainly assist you in becoming queen.”

“Look, I’ll read this,” I said, gesturing to the book, “but can you recommend some real history too? I’m not going to learn anything otherwise.” I rolled my eyes. “Don’t worry, I’ll turn to Maxwell if I need any help with the long words.”

To my amazement, he _almost_ smiled. “At least he’d finally be of some use.”

He disappeared and returned with two thick, hardback books. “These are the standard texts on Cordonian history. I doubt they’ll be of much interest to _you_.”

I met his eyes as I accepted the books from him. "Look, _Your Grace_ , I know the real reason you’re not coming to Lythikos. I don’t believe it has anything to do with your estate. You’ve decided that I'm going to fail, and you can’t stand to watch.”

His eyebrows raised in surprise, a hint of colour appearing on his cheeks. _I was definitely onto him_. “Nonsense, while Maxwell’s been traipsing around with the Prince, I’ve been doing the _real_ work of running our house and estate. I merely have an urgent matter to attend to here.”

“For the entire two weeks?"

“Indeed.”

I sighed. “Wouldn’t it be better for us both if you came to Lythikos to advise me? If we tried to actually, I don’t know... get along? I thought we had a shared goal.”

He dusted an invisible speck from his brown jacket, not meeting my gaze. “As I said, I have urgent matters to attend to here.”

 _What the hell is your problem,_ I thought angrily. _We’re meant to be on the same side_. I took a deep breath. “Look, _Your Grace_ , I want to win this competition.”

He met my eyes. “Ambition gets you nowhere if you don’t know how to act on it.”

“Then _help me_ to act on it.”

“With Countess Madeleine in the contest, your chances are negligible.”

“Maybe you could assist me instead of discouraging me?”

For just a moment, his expression softened, and I thought he was going to relent. Instead, he looked away from me. “I’ll see you upon your return from Lythikos, Lady Estella. You can rest assured that I will remain in communication with Maxwell throughout.”

“Yeah, okay.” 

I walked away from him. As much as I liked Maxwell, I knew _exactly_ how little Bertrand trusted his brother’s capabilities. There was absolutely no way he would leave this to Maxwell if he thought I had even the tiniest chance of potential success. _The Duke of Ramsford had already written me off as a failure._

I turned back to him at the library door. “I’ll prove you wrong.”

He opened his mouth to reply, but I turned my back on him and left the library with my books. I wasn’t going to listen to anymore of his doomsayings. I didn’t want him to leach my self-belief away.

_I had to get to Lythikos. It was time to take on Olivia._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Apologies for such a long chapter!
> 
> For the purpose of this fic, I’ve attempted to somewhat combine the TRR and TRM MC personalities. I needed an MC who would approach the competition more tactically. As much as I love the TRR MC, she does make some pretty random decisions (like looking in a stable for someone to direct her to a tent).
> 
> Song lyrics at the start of this chapter are from the Ascot Gavotte from My Fair Lady by Frederick Loewe, Alan Jay Lerner and André Previn.


	6. Fire and Ice

  
  


_Ladies_

_Looks_

_Proximity to power_

_ Ladies _

_ They delighted and distracted him _

After a long journey, Maxwell, Drake, Hana and I stood overlooking the Nevrakis château. Lythikos Keep was an impressive, imposing building nestled amongst the stunning Alpine scenery. We stood on crisp white snow, and I was extremely glad I was wearing my winter coat. 

“Welcome to Lythikos!” Maxwell said with a smile. “Land of ice, snow, and mountains.”

“So this is where Olivia lives,” I said thoughtfully. I'd expected an ice palace hung with razor-sharp icicles.

Maxwell nodded. “Some of the time, yeah. She’s primarily at Lythikos Hall, which is further south, but she’ll host us up here for the social season, so we can take advantage of the snowy festivities…”

I turned to him with a shrewd smile. “And so _she_ can take advantage of the Prince?”

Hana looked thoughtful. “She does have the edge here.” She turned to me with a smile. “Still, that’s no reason for us to admit defeat!”

I grinned back. “I’m not admitting defeat. I’ve always appreciated a challenge.”

“That’s the spirit,” said Maxwell encouragingly. 

“What happened to your brother, Maxwell?” Drake asked curiously. “I thought he hated to miss out on the chance to eat fancy food and rub elbows with the royals…”

I felt a rush of anger as I thought about Maxwell’s brother, anger and a fiery determination to prove him wrong about my chances with Liam. Maxwell glanced at me awkwardly before answering. I suspected my frustration with his brother had shown on my face. 

“Bertrand was called away for some business to do with our estate.”

Drake smiled. “This is starting to sound like a real vacation after all.”

I smirked. “I already miss his protocol pop quizzes.”

Maxwell chuckled. “If you _really_ want, I can quiz you on how to best stand behind a chair.”

Drake groaned. “Please, don’t. We’re about to have such a nice time.” 

Maxwell looked at me earnestly for a moment. “I know you and Bertrand haven’t been getting along so far, but he has got a nice side underneath that stern brow of his.”

“Hmm,” I said vaguely.

“You two will be friends in no time,” he said with unconvincing optimism. 

I looked back at him sceptically. “Somehow I doubt that.”

“We’re out in the _Alps_ ,” said Drake in frustration. “Surely there are better things to do than stand around talking about Bertrand?”

Hana smiled. “I think we could enjoy the outdoors more. It’s beautiful out here… Even if it is so very _cold_!”

“Did you bring a coat?” I asked anxiously. She was wearing a lovely but sleeveless dress.

She shook her head. “Not exactly. I didn’t realise it’d be snowing quite this much… but I’ll survive.” She looked at us hopefully. “What say we check out the inside of the château?”

*** 

I’d barely had a chance to look around my lavish bedroom before Maxwell bounded into the room.

“Come on, Estella! Put your stuff down, so we can go!”

“What’s your rush?”

He was bobbing up and down on the spot excitedly. “We’ve got an entire day in the snow planned out! Plus, I already see Olivia and Liam out there on the ice…”

I wasn’t looking forward to a fortnight of skiing and skating. I could skate just about okay. New York winters had guaranteed that, but the one time I’d gone skiing had been pretty terrible. I’d spent the whole trip languishing in the beginners class falling down repeatedly. _Maybe it was a good thing Duke Judgement wouldn’t be around to see this._

Back outside, Maxwell led me towards the frozen lake, where we each donned a pair of ice skates.

“You know how to ice skate, right?” He asked slightly apprehensively. 

I attempted a confident smile. “I know the basics. Try to stay upright and don’t fall?”

“Good enough.”

Out on the ice, several guests were already skating around in pairs, including Prince Liam and Olivia.

“Don’t tell me you’ve forgotten just how well I can skate,” Olivia called to Liam as she skated in an elegant circle around him. 

Liam watched her with a smile that I didn’t particularly like. “Oh, I very much remember.”

Maxwell put his hands on my shoulders. “Remember to keep your eyes on the prize… Now, get out there and grab some time with the Prince while I distract Olivia.” He waved at her. “Olivia, you’ve gotta see me do a spin! Don’t move!” 

Turning back to me, Maxwell winked and gave me a push, sending me sailing across the ice. “Go get ‘em, princess!”

As I flailed my arms, trying to maintain my balance, I quickly remembered exactly why I didn’t enjoy ice skating. For a horrible moment I thought I was going to face plant on the ice, until Liam suddenly caught me in his arms. 

“Gotcha.” He wrapped me in a brief hug before pulling away. _Ha, take that Olivia,_ I thought smugly. 

“Well, hello,” I said with a smile.

He grinned back. “I take it you’ve come to skate with me today?”

“That was my hope.”

Liam offered me his warm hand. I took it, entwining our fingers together. 

“You look very lovely today,” he said with a charming smile. “Lovely and warm.”

“I’m definitely glad I put on this coat.” I looked around us at the stunning scenery. “Do you and the court come out here regularly?”

“Not often. However, when we do, Olivia’s always been very generous by having us at her estate. Actually, I used to come out here frequently when I was younger. Olivia and I would play in the snow together…” 

I figured this was a perfect opportunity to try and discover just _how_ close Liam and Olivia actually were. I wasn’t sure how much of her bravado was feigned. Watching them together, it was obvious they knew each other well. 

“You and Olivia, huh? Tell me more about that.”

He smiled fondly. “We’d build little snow forts on the bank and ‘catapult’ snowballs at each other.”

“You two must’ve been close.”

His smile flickered. “We were… It’s been hard watching her, well, become who she is.” He sighed. “I know that Olivia can be a tough person to get along with.”

_Okay_ , that was reassuring. It didn't sound like they were romantically involved. I decided to try and be diplomatic. “She’s certainly a strong personality.”

“She is indeed.” He looked thoughtfully around at the winter scenery. “You see, Olivia had a difficult childhood. Her parents were killed in a political assassination when she was only five. She was alone, without family at her estate for the better part of a year before my parents and I officially visited. She was supposed to be in the care of her aunt, but the woman left to summer on the Riviera, abandoning her...”

I felt a stab of pity for Olivia. “That’s terrible. She left a five-year-old alone? Didn’t Olivia have a nanny or anything?”

Liam nodded. “Indeed, and a tutor. The servants did their best, but they were traditionalists, Nevrakis-family trained for decades. After a lifetime of holding the nobility up on a pedestal, they weren’t prepared to give her what she needed most… Love.”

We skated a lap around the lake. “So, what happened when you visited with your parents?”

“The first few days of our visit, Olivia was sullen and withdrawn. I thought she hated me. But one night, I heard her sobbing through the wall. I actually believed it was a ghost, at first, but once I got over my fear and decided to investigate, there she was… Little five-year-old Olivia, weeping and clutching one of her mother’s gowns. I knew we couldn’t leave her there. I convinced my parents to invite her to live at the palace with us. For almost two months, she wouldn’t leave my side. Just about drove Drake crazy, actually, but--”

Olivia skated over, interrupting our conversation. Liam reluctantly let go of my hand. 

Her eyes narrowed as she looked at me. “Maxwell is in a persistent mood today.” 

“He’s just excited to be in the snow,” I replied calmly. 

She smiled a sharp-toothed grin. “So, Estella, I bet you’ve never seen a countryside this spectacular. Aren’t you impressed?”

I kept my face blank. “It’s a frozen wasteland.” As Olivia glowered at me, I broke into a smile. “Obviously, it’s gorgeous.”

“I’m glad even someone like _you_ can appreciate the elegance and splendour of nature.” Olivia wrapped her arm possessively around Liam’s. “Now, Prince Liam, I believe you owe me a round across the lake.”

Liam smiled at me. “Excuse me, Estella… I do owe her… I will see you later.” They skated off together. Olivia released Liam’s arm, snaking her hand into his. 

I looked around, watching the other nobles skate with varying degrees of success. Hana glided elegantly towards me across the ice. Skating backwards, she circled around me. 

“Looks like Olivia stole Liam from you.” 

“It’s fine. Liam has obligations. I don’t take it personally.”

“That’s level-headed of you.”

I looked at her curiously. “What about _you_ , Hana? Don’t you want to try and spend some time with him?”

“I think he’s firmly in Olivia’s clutches at the moment,” she replied with a smile. “Besides, we’re here for two weeks. There’s plenty of time.”

Hana twirled gracefully before coming to a full stop beside me. 

I watched her in awe. “Where’d you learn to skate like that?"

She smiled. “Ice skating is one of the things my parents sent me to lessons for.”

“That’s an unusual choice. I had basketball practice and chess club.”

Hana sighed. “It’s a skill I learned to impress suitors. I was told that _a display of elegance can go a long way_.”

“Well, it’s definitely elegant, but do you enjoy ice skating?" 

“Oh, you know… it’s okay.”

“Hana, that’s not very convincing.” 

She chewed her lip thoughtfully. “When my parents were selecting my activities, whether or not I enjoyed something wasn’t a factor they considered. Now I find myself with all sorts of skills that I honestly haven’t much interest in.”

From the centre of the lake, her hand still holding onto Liam’s, Olivia called out to everyone. “It’s time to hit the slopes!”

“Dieu merci,” said Kiara, skating up alongside us with an unsteady Penelope.

“Skiing must be easier than this… right?” Penelope asked anxiously. 

Madeleine snorted derisively next to her. 

***

While everyone went to change into ski gear, I discreetly slipped away. I didn’t own any ski equipment, and I had _zero_ intention of purchasing any. I hoped nobody would notice my absence, but I wasn’t going to give Olivia the pleasure of discovering that winter sports were _definitely_ not my thing.

Instead, I curled up on my bed and opened _The Crown and The Flame_. I figured I might as well use my spare time to do something productive. I quickly got lost in the story, every so often stopping to compare the fiction to the factual accounts in the books from the palace library. Before I knew it, it was time to join the others for dinner.

***

Dinner was served in an ornate dining room at a long dining table. As hostess, Olivia naturally took prime position next to Liam. Hana and I were seated at the far end, nearest the door. Drake sank into the seat opposite me.

“There you are Brook. I was beginning to think you’d gone back to New York.”

I smirked. “Were you starting to miss me?”

“Hardly. Why did you skip skiing anyway?”

I glanced around before replying. “Between you and me, it isn’t really my thing.”

Drake snorted. “You’re going to have a long stay in Lythikos if you don’t enjoy winter sports.”

I rolled my eyes. “Let me guess, you live for rugged outdoor pursuits? Did you spend today searching for a polar bear to punch in the face?”

“Yes, Brook, because there are _definitely_ polar bears in Lythikos.”

Hana smiled reassuringly at me. “Don’t worry, you really didn’t miss much. Just Olivia monopolising Liam, and Tariq complaining about the quality of the slopes.”

“They’re still all more bearable outdoors than indoors,” said Drake as the soup was served. “At least outdoors you can ski the hell away from them.”

Hana turned to me thoughtfully. “Why don’t we visit Lythikos town one day? I don’t know about you but I’m tempted to buy a new dress for the ball.” She looked at Drake with a smile. “You’re welcome to join us if you like?”

“Hard pass.”  
  


***

A few days later, Hana and I went to explore the town. We quickly ended up in a luxurious boutique. I’d decided to wear my blue dress to the Lythikos ball, but as soon as I saw the beautiful gowns on display, I started to question my decision. 

Hana’s eyes lit up as she picked out an elegant silver gown. “I have to try this on.”

“I think it would really suit you.”

As Hana took the dress to the changing room, I tried to ignore the siren call of the gowns, but it was impossible. One particularly magnificent dress drew my eye. It was a pale blue gown with a shimmering bustier and glittering gems on the transparent sleeves. 

_That’s the perfect outfit for a winter ball_ , said an annoying voice in the back of my head. I glanced apprehensively at the price tag. It was three figures, but not four. _It’s an investment_ , said the voice. _I bet Liam would like it_.

In the fitting area, Hana stepped out from behind a curtain wearing the silver, shimmering dress.

“Ta-daa! How do I look?”

_Stunning_ was the only possible answer _. I really did need to buy the gown._ My old, blue dress definitely couldn’t compete. 

“Hana, you’re going to set the ball on fire! Everyone’s going to be talking about your dress.”

“You think so?”

“I’ll force people into awkward conversations about it if I have to.”

Hana laughed. “Come on, I want to see you try that one on.”

I stepped out of the fitting room and did a quick twirl. “What do you think?”

Hana smiled warmly. “It’s so beautiful. You look like a magical snowstorm!”

"Thanks, Hana. You're the best rival a girl could ask for."

She laughed. "Why don't we pay for these and find somewhere to have a coffee?"

***

As we sipped steaming lattes in a café, Hana looked at me thoughtfully.

“How have you found Lythikos so far?”

“Honestly? Not great. It’s beautiful, but my strengths aren’t exactly outdoor pursuits.”

Hana smiled kindly. “You’re not the only one. Penelope had to abandon skiing after twisting her knee today. She was in tears worrying about missing the ball. I reassured her that she still had a week to recover."

I sipped my coffee. “How are you finding it?”

She considered before answering. “I guess It’s been rewarding to finally put some of my skills to use."

“How are you so good at all these things? Drake said you beat him in a ski race yesterday."

She smiled somewhat forlornly. “As much as I’d like to claim it’s natural talent, it’s as I said before. My parents have been pushing me to learn all the courtly and social arts since I was young…”

“It sounds like they expected a lot?"

She nodded sadly. “They were devastated when they didn’t have any sons, so they pinned all of their hopes on me. Every day of my life has been about grooming me to bring fame and fortune to my family by winning some prince or noble’s hand…" She looked down at her hands. "For all the good it’s done after my last engagement…”

“Do you mind if I ask what happened?” I asked tentatively. “With your fiancé?”

She sighed. “Peter was an English nobleman. He was well off and had an ancestral title and home… all of the things my parents wanted. We’d spend long afternoons horseback riding and sailing. He was very kind… That, and he’d been raised with romantic notions about true love and a lifetime of happily wedded bliss. It should have been perfect.” 

“But?”

She sipped her drink, holding it with both hands. “But… the simple truth was that I didn’t love him… My parents never asked me what I wanted, never gave me reason to think that I might also _love_ the person I’d marry. At our engagement party a month before the wedding, he cornered me and… He asked me if he was what I wanted. And even though I told him what he wanted to hear, I couldn’t keep back the tears. He could tell that I was miserable." She sighed, looking sadly around the café. "I don’t think he ever understood why I would’ve gone through with it… He was good enough not to make a big deal out of it, but there was a lot of ugly speculation about why we parted. Especially because he got married shortly after to another woman…" She let out a long, slow breath.

"I'm sorry, Hana. That sounds like it was really tough."

"It's behind me now… My parents are upset with me, but they’ve given me another chance. _Here_ , _now_." She smiled weakly. "Besides, it’s not all bad. They’ve been pressuring me to spend more time with you.”

"Let me guess, because they've heard the rumours that I'm close to the Prince?"

Hana nodded. "Exactly. They think that if I'm close to you, then I’m closer to Liam.”

I sipped my drink with a smile. “That’s quite a strategy. At the moment they should probably pressure you to spend time with _Olivia_. She’s having the most success with Liam here."

Hana laughed, then her expression grew more serious. “I want you to know that I do _like_ spending time with you, Estella. It's not just about my parent's schemes."

I smiled. "Hana, it’s good to have a friend around here. Anyway, I completely understand. I bet Bertrand and Maxwell would encourage me to pursue alliances they thought might be tactical." I didn't add that I'd probably identify and pursue them _myself_. 

Hana nodded. "It’s funny. Even though we’re technically competing against each other, we can still be friends.”

That was the strange thing about this blossoming friendship, _we were still rivals_. Only one of the suitors could be Liam's choice. A time might come when it would be good strategy for Hana and I to work against each other. She was certainly a strong contender for Liam's hand. Maybe she would fall for Liam the way she hadn't for Peter.

I grinned at her. “Just promise me that if you become queen, I can come and visit?”

She smiled. “Deal! Honestly though, I think it looks like a three-horse race between you, Madeleine and Olivia."

I looked at her firmly. "Don't rule yourself out! You have just as good a chance." I sipped my drink again. “I’d underestimated Olivia. She seems to control her worst behaviour around Liam.”

“True," said Hana. "But it’s still all to play for. She might become overconfident and overstep.”

“Hopefully… I wonder what Madeleine is plotting."

"I presume she must know Prince Liam quite well already because of her relationship with his brother. Maybe that's why she hasn't pushed too hard to spend time with him."

I sipped my drink thoughtfully. “Madeleine strikes me as the type to play a long game. Something tells me she’s the one to watch.”

***

After dinner, Olivia’s guests would relax in the château, drinking warm drinks and chatting. I quickly fell into a routine of spending that time with Hana, Drake and Maxwell. 

"Look at the hot chocolate!" Hana said happily one evening towards the end of our stay. "The little marshmallows are shaped like hearts!”

“Just… just adorable," Drake replied unenthusiastically.

“Watch yourself…" Maxwell whispered. "We’ve got incoming.”

Olivia strode into the room with a smirk on her face. “Well, hello, my dear guests. I hope you’re enjoying my spectacular hosting.”

Maxwell smiled politely. “I always enjoy my time here with you, Olivia.”

“It’s… something," said Drake wearily. 

Olivia narrowed her eyes at Drake, her smile thin. “Did you see that we have eclairs, Drake? They always remind me of dear, darling little Savannah. She’d gobble them down like a sow at the trough.”

Drake immediately tensed. “Don’t talk about my sister.” Clearly this was an extremely sensitive subject.

Olivia's smile widened at his obvious anger. She knew she'd scored a direct hit. “Why ever not? She was such a fixture at court, and then she just up and disappeared. You never told us what happened, and usually gossip is so quick to spread.”

Drake glared at her. “She left because of people like _you_.”

Olivia shrugged. “She always was the sensitive sort." She glanced at Hana. "Ladies like that don’t last long here.”

Drake’s jaw clenched, but suddenly he looked at his watch and relaxed. “You know what? I’ve just remembered somewhere I need to be. If you’ll excuse me.”

He bowed curtly to me, Hana and Olivia, then turned and strode off.

Olivia watched him go with a smirk. “Wait, Drake, dear! Come back! I wasn’t finished with you!”

I looked at Olivia curiously. “Olivia, tell me about Drake’s sister.”

She bit into one of the miniature eclairs, examining it thoughtfully. “There’s really not much to tell. She thought she could fit in with the nobility… and she was wrong. I guess she figured that out faster than _some_ and took her leave." She looked at me meaningfully for a moment. "Though by all accounts, it was rather sudden. Overnight, she packed up her things and disappeared without a word." She finished the eclair, licking a spot of chocolate from her finger. "Now, as charming as this has been, I’ve got to get back to Prince Liam. I’ve promised him a _private_ tour of the Keep. Bye bye, darlings!”

With a wink, she flounced out of the room. 

Hana looked sadly down at her hot chocolate. “I can’t believe the things Olivia says. I think she really upset Drake.”

“Yeah…” I was trying not to dwell on what Olivia and Liam might get up to on their private tour. I decided instead to focus on the mysterious Savannah. “Maxwell, do you have any idea what happened to Drake’s sister?”

Maxwell paused before answering, his brow creasing. “Not really… It’s like Olivia said. Savannah used to hang out with us, but one day, she left." He shifted in his seat. "I’m not sure why. Nobody is. The last time I saw her, she was her usual friendly self… Anyway, Drake clearly didn’t want to talk about it, so I don’t pry.” I got the impression that the conversation was making him uncomfortable. I wondered if he felt awkward speculating about his friend's sister. 

“Poor Drake," said Hana. 

“Yeah," agreed Maxwell. "He doesn’t usually let Olivia get under his skin like that.”

Hana looked concerned. “I hope he’s all right. I saw him go outside, but it’s not a good idea to be out there right now. I’ve heard there’s a storm brewing tonight… What can he be thinking?” I followed her gaze to the window. The sky was darkening and taking on an ominous tone. 

I stood up. “There’s only one way to find out…”

“You mean you’re thinking about following him?” Hana looked at me anxiously.

I nodded. “I’m going to see what he’s doing.” I wanted something to distract me from Liam and Olivia's tour, and I felt guilty for gossiping about his sister.

I grabbed my coat and followed him into the dark night.

***

Some way outside the château I spotted Drake in a clearing, staring into the woods. Crouching down, I watched as he punched a gloved hand into a tree.

“Dammit. _Dammit_!" He looked angrily up at the sky. “Where did you go, Savannah?”

_Wait, so Drake didn't even know where his sister was? No wonder he was so upset._

I accidentally trod on a branch, and it snapped loudly. Drake’s gaze snapped over to where I was hiding. “Who’s over there? Come out now.”

I stepped out awkwardly. I figured spying on him was a bit weird. “It’s… it’s just me.”

He glared at me. “Estella? How long have you been watching me? What are you even doing out here?”

I shrugged, feigning nonchalance. “I saw you going off on your own, close to dark with a storm coming, and I wanted to see what you were doing.” 

He sighed. "I had somewhere to be."

"Where?"

"Out here, _obviously_."

"Doing what, _exactly_?"

He shrugged. “If you really want to know… you’ll have to trust me.”

I raised an eyebrow. “Trust you? I’d trust you about as far as I can throw you.”

He laughed. “Well, you’re out here alone with me at night, so you must at least think I’m not some kind of murderer.”

“The thought did cross my mind.”

He took a step towards me. “Here, I’ll make this easy for you…” He reached out and shoved me.

“Hey!”

For a second, I struggled to keep my footing, but then I toppled over, landing on my back in the soft snow. I looked up to see the most star-filled sky I'd ever laid eyes on. As I watched, shooting stars lit up the night.

“Drake…”

I heard a thud as Drake landed next to me. “Yes, my lady.”

"This is beautiful."

"Yeah, it's not bad." 

We lay there in silence, gazing up at the sky. Eventually, clouds started to creep across the stars.

“Looks like we were just in time to see this before the storm."

Drake sighed. “Yeah, I didn't want to miss it... I used to do this every year with my younger sister, Savannah. We grew up around the royals. My dad used to do security for Liam and his brother, and my sister and I were allowed to hang out with them."

"Is that how you and Liam became friends?"

He nodded. "We ended up getting close, even though I didn’t have the lineage to merit it. Savannah, on the other hand, got along with everyone, and they were all friendly with her. She _loved_ living at the palace when we were kids, being around all the pretty dresses and jewellery… But it got harder when she was older.”

"Because she wasn't a noble?"

"Yeah. This place isn't kind to commoners." His tone was bitter. He glanced at me momentarily, as if trying to warn me.

"What happened?"

"She couldn’t take it, I guess. I failed her. I couldn’t protect her from this place… or these people.” Drake put his hand over his face and was quiet for a moment. “Sorry, it’s… I guess I’m still not ready to talk about it."

I wondered what the hell had happened to Savannah. Had she been bullied? Attacked? It must have been something major for her to vanish, leaving her brother unable to face discussing it.

After a few moments of silence, Drake looked at me thoughtfully. "This is more than I’ve talked about it with anyone in the last year, actually.”

"Does this mean we're friends now?" I asked curiously.

He quirked an eyebrow. “Friends? I wouldn’t go that far, Brook.”

I rolled my eyes. “Should we just call it not-enemies, then?”

He shrugged. “I guess I can’t really stop you, can I?”

“Nope.”

We stared at the sky silently for a moment, watching for shooting stars. As more snowflakes began to fall, Drake sighed.

“We better get back. It’d be quite the scandal if I let one of the Prince’s suitors freeze to death out here on my watch.”

He stood up and offered me his hand. I accepted it, pulling myself up.

“I’d hate for my untimely demise to cause you any difficulty," I said, brushing the snow from my coat.

He chuckled. “Not to mention that Maxwell would never let me hear the end of it.”

"Bertrand would probably thank you for doing him a favour."

"He'd just want to turn it into some kind of press event. Now, let’s go.”

We walked slowly back, trudging through the snow and wind.

“The next time you tell me that I’m doing something stupid, I’m going to remind you about your little walk in the blizzard.”

He shrugged with a smile.“I do plenty of stupid stuff, Brook. I’m practically the King of Stupid.”

“Really?”

“Really. You just don’t know me very well yet." He looked at me thoughtfully. "But… maybe that’ll change.”

“Maybe.”

I wondered if we were flirting. We were at least warming up to each other. I sneaked glances at him as we walked. He was definitely handsome, even if he was a bit too keen on the great outdoors. 

***

When we got back to the château, we stood in the foyer and brushed the snow from our clothes. I’d received an anxious message from Hana, so I quickly replied telling her that we were back safely and out of the storm.

“Fancy a drink? From what I’ve seen Olivia’s got quite a stash.”

“From what you’ve seen?”

He grinned. “I did some exploring, and I happened to stumble across her wine cellar.”

“Is it decent?"

“Yeah. It’s pretty impressive. Why don’t you join me, Brook? If you’re not afraid of being caught. Y’know... breaking the rules. Out after curfew and all that.”

I smirked. “Lead the way."

Drake led me through a series of corridors, descending down a spiral staircase into the wine cellar. 

He pulled two glasses from a rack. "So, what’re you drinking? It seems like Olivia has a _very_ extensive collection of fine Cordonian wines." He glanced around at the shelves. “I’m no expert, but from the names I recognise, nothing in here’s under a thousand dollars!”

I raised an eyebrow in feigned horror. “You want me to drink Olivia’s wine?" I laughed. "Pass me a bottle! She’s got so many here, she’ll probably never even notice!”

Drake opened a bottle and poured me a glass. I swirled it and took a sip. It was a beautiful wine, full-bodied and rich. 

“So this is what a thousand dollars tastes like,” I said thoughtfully.

“Worth it?”

“I may never be able to go back. Shall I pour you some?"

He pulled a flask from his pocket. “I’ll stick to whiskey, thanks. I'm not really a wine person."

“So, you came down to the wine cellar to drink whiskey? Doesn’t that seem a little silly?”

He shrugged. "I came down here to spend some time with my fellow commoner. Don't you find it liberating not having to curtsy and grovel for a bit?"

I perched on a table, sipping my wine. “Drake, if you hate the nobility so much, why do you stick around?”

He took a swig of whiskey. “It must seem ridiculous to you.”

“To be honest, I don’t understand why you put yourself through it.” 

He sighed. “It’s Liam. It’s always been for him.”

I wondered if he _was_ in love with Liam. I figured it would explain why he hung around a court he obviously hated. 

“I would’ve left a long time ago, but Liam needs me. I know he’s got nobles and courtiers all around him, but most of them would stab him in the back if they thought they could profit from it. I’ve seen so many underhand moves that I don’t trust any of them anymore. And these are from our _friends_! And this latest one…” Drake shook his head, taking a longer swig of whiskey. 

“What happened?”

He glanced at me hesitantly. “I’m not sure I should tell you. It’s still being resolved.”

_That was just infuriating._ “You’re always implying I need to watch out. It’d be nice to know what for.”

He sighed. “You remember Liam’s bachelor party, right?”

“Obviously.”

“Well, we found out that someone close to us that night was trying to sell pictures of him in that club to the tabloids. We haven’t tracked down the source yet, but I just got a message from Bastien that we were able to buy back the photos before they were printed.”

“Call me crazy, but I don’t remember anything that scandalous happening…”

“You know how the tabloids are. A picture with a drink in his hand, and suddenly the crown prince of Cordonia is on a drunken rager. And then there’s the pictures of the two of you together.”

“But we weren’t....”

Drake shrugged. “The two of you were talking, and he was clearly interested in you. That’s enough for them to speculate on. Picture the headline: _Prince Liam’s Drunken Fling Before the Ring_.”

“And you have no idea who would do this?”

“Not really. There are a lot of people who would be desperate for those photos…” Drake sighed. “I just hope it wasn’t one of the guys. The pictures they had would’ve been hard to take unless that person were someone close to us…”

I couldn’t imagine Maxwell or Tariq selling photos of Liam to the tabloids. “Drake, I’ll watch out, but there’s got to be another explanation. Maybe someone’s phone got hacked.”

He rolled his eyes. “And maybe magic pixies came down and waved their little wands and did the whole thing themselves.”

I still wasn't too concerned. “I’m just saying there could be more to this story. All it would have taken is for someone in Kismet to have recognised Liam and snapped some photos. It isn’t necessarily some sinister conspiracy.”

“Sorry. I know.” He looked at me seriously. “Just… be careful. Okay? Money and power make people do crazy things, Brook. I don’t want to see you get hurt because of it. You’re not a noble, and although the Beaumonts say they’ve got your back, I wouldn’t trust any of them.”

“Even Maxwell?”

“Yeah. He might be all smiles, but he still knows how to play the game.”

“Drake, you've lived here a long time. Don't _you_ know the game by now?"

"That's the thing, Brook. _They don't let you play without money and status_. Savannah found that out the hard way." He ran a hand through his hair. “Look, I know I probably sound paranoid, but sometimes I look at you… and I see this wide-eyed baby deer who just stumbled into the hunter’s campsite. You don’t know what this world is like.”

The look on his face implied he was deadly serious. Still, I decided to try and lighten the mood. “A baby deer? I’m more like a fox. Sneaking around at night, stealing their wine supplies.”

“I don’t think foxes drink wine, Brook.”

“You know what I mean. Anyone coming for me should at least be prepared for a nasty bite.”

He shook his head. “What is it about you? You’re so frustrating, but…”

“But?”

“Forget it. How about a toast, instead?”

“What’re we toasting to? Stealing Olivia's wine?”

“To the moments in between.”

“Explain…”

“All the nobles think about are the big events. The grand balls, the press appearances, the banquets… They don’t even realise that the moments that matter the most are all the ones they’re missing. Moments like right now, just the two of us in some dark wine cellar. The ones that really mean something." He looked at me tentatively. "At least, it means something to me, anyway.”

_Definitely flirting_. 

“Drake… This is the most fun I’ve had all day.” I meant it. As much as I liked spending time with Hana, it was impossible to forget that she was still my rival for Liam's hand. With Drake it was easier to just relax. I raised my glass. “To the moments in between.”

“Cheers.” 

We downed the rest of our drinks.

“Now, it’s getting late, and I don’t want to get you in any trouble.”

I smirked at him. “How thoughtful of you.”

He smirked back. “I’m a gentleman, even if not by birth.”

Drake smiled at me before heading off to his room. “G’night, Brook.”

“Good night, Drake.”

***

The morning of the ball, something occurred to me. I had absolutely no idea what was on the agenda for the social season after Lythikos. When I asked Maxwell about it over breakfast, he smiled at me sheepishly. 

“Bertrand gave me an itinerary, but I might have drowned it in coffee.” He grinned. “Don’t worry, Estella, we can stress about all that when we get back to the Palace.”

_Hmm_ , I did worry though. I’d hardly seen Liam during our time in Lythikos. Olivia kept him by her side pretty much all the time. I needed to _seriously_ up my game when we escaped her domain. I knew I’d feel less stressed if I could start preparing for what was next. When I asked Drake, he just shrugged. Hana mentioned something about a Regatta and a stay in a country manor.

Reluctantly, after breakfast I dialled Bertrand's number. 

“Who is this?” He demanded irritably. Clearly he hadn’t bothered saving my number. 

I rolled my eyes. "It's the stray cat your brother brought home."

“Oh, Lady Estella.” His tone was cool. “What can I do for you?”

“I know you gave Maxwell an itinerary for the coming weeks, but he lost it. Can you send me a copy?”

I could almost hear his eye roll. “Very well.”

“Thanks.”

“How are preparations for the ball this evening?”

“Preparations?”

“I assume that you have been daily practising the Cordonian Waltz?”

I had an unpleasant sinking feeling. "The Cordonian waltz… I'm guessing that's a specific dance?"

Bertrand made a sound somewhere in between a sigh and a groan. “Am I to presume that despite my clear instructions, my brother has failed to inform you that the ball will commence with the waltz?”

“That would be a fair assumption.”

Bertrand muttered something inaudible. "Are you still on good terms with Lady Hana?"

"Yes, we're getting on very well."

"Good. See if she'll run through the steps with you. If you're getting on well she probably wont deliberately mislead you. I'd ask Maxwell, but apparently he cannot be trusted with even the most basic of tasks."

I was too annoyed with Maxwell to even consider defending him.

***

Hana was amazing and agreed to show me the steps that afternoon. We pushed the furniture aside in her room to create a space for dancing.

“I really appreciate you helping me like this…”

“It’s the least I can do after you cheered me up at the Masquerade… I’m just sorry that I didn’t think to ask if you knew the Waltz.”

I looked at her anxiously. “Is it super complicated? I'm scared I'll look bad in front of the court." We both knew that I actually meant: _in front of Liam_. 

She gave me a reassuring smile. “You’ll be absolutely fine. We’ll go through all of the specific steps for the Cordonian Waltz. As long as you know your part for each of them, you can follow your partner easily.”

Hana put some music on and turned to me. “Ready? I’ll be the Prince in this situation, so you can learn your part. Ahem. Lady Estella.” 

“Prince Liam.”

I curtsied to her in an over exaggerated way, making her laugh. She bowed to me.

“Now we get into position. Let’s have you put your left hand on my shoulder…” She started guiding me. “This is the usual box step. It’s the most basic movement and kind of like a bridge between the other steps…”

“So far so good.”

“Now, the next three steps are the reverse, spin, and the twirl. First, I’m going to lead you into the reverse.”

I felt her shift her weight and move forward. I moved backwards, and we effortlessly glided in a straight line down the room.

“Perfect!” Hana said encouragingly.

“I just followed your lead.”

She smiled. “That’s a good thing. You’re able to read me. Did you feel when I put that slight pressure on your hand? It was a cue to move backwards.”

“Yeah… It’s an interesting way of communicating.” 

“Ultimately, the waltz is like a conversation. You and your partner make a connection, responding to each other to make the dance work. It’s kind of romantic… Actually the Cordonian Waltz is supposed to be a courtship dance, which is undoubtedly why Olivia chose it for the formal ball tomorrow.”

Something occurred to me. “Wait, Olivia will dance with Liam. Who are _we_ going to be dancing this courtship dance with?”

“Whoever asks us. You’ll probably dance with Maxwell.”

The idea of having to dance a romantic waltz with Maxwell didn't quite compute. 

"He'll be lucky if I don't stomp on his feet. I can't believe he didn't tell me about this."

Hana grinned. “Now, the last two steps are meant to be the most flirtatious. There’s the _spin…_ Just relax into this.”

She moved so that she grasped my hands as she began to swing me around.

I laughed as the room spun around me. “This feels too fun to be a formal dance. Am I doing it right?”

“You’re doing it perfectly. Now for the last move, the _twirl…_ ”

She twirled me so that I was facing away from her. 

“... and that’s the Cordonian Waltz. If you know those steps, you’ll be more than fine.”

“Hana, you’re a star.”

***

Arriving at the chateau’s ballroom that evening, I spotted Maxwell across the room. I resisted the urge to yell: _you forgot to teach me the damn waltz, Beaumont_. He approached, bowing to me and Hana.

“Ladies… it’s a pleasure to see you both tonight." He smiled at my new gown. "Lady Brook, I must say, you look utterly becoming. Truly, a diamond of the first water.”

I looked at him curiously. “That’s unusually formal of you. What gives?”

_“Tonight_ I am representing the Duchy of Ramsford at this important social event.” 

"I see, so you're channelling your inner Bertrand?"

Maxwell nodded. 

Hana looked happily around the room. “Ooh, Olivia hired a full orchestra to play!”

Maxwell grinned at her. “I’ve heard you’re quite the musician yourself, Hana.”

She blushed. “Oh, no. I’m not…”

Maxwell raised a friendly eyebrow. “Really? I feel like I remember hearing that you were a virtuoso pianist.”

“I still play from time to time, but only for fun.”

I smiled at her. “I’d like to hear you sometime!”

“I actually found a piano in the parlour here. I was considering sneaking over there to play sometime… You’re welcome to join me, Estella. But for now, we should probably find our seats.”

We made our way over to the seating chart. Dinner that evening was being served on tables in the ballroom. 

“Where are we sitting?” I asked as Maxwell read the plan.

He glanced back at us awkwardly. “Turns out _I’m_ sitting at the head table with Olivia and the Prince… But you two are at the farthest table in the back. I guess Olivia put together the seating plan.”

I shrugged. “Olivia’s making me sit in the back? The company will be much better at our table. No offence, Maxwell.”

He smiled. “None taken. Hell, I’d join you if I could! Er... I mean... I should say, Olivia has greatly honoured me.” 

I rolled my eyes. “Don’t worry, we won’t tell Bertrand.”

“Sorry to leave you guys, but…”

Hana smiled at him reassuringly. “Don’t worry about us, Maxwell. Estella and I will make the best of it!”

Maxwell didn’t reply, he was staring behind us, his eyes wide with horrified surprise. "Uh oh…"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Song lyrics at the start of this chapter are from A Winter's Ball by Lin-Manuel Miranda


	7. A Waltz to Remember

_It's murder on the dancefloor_

_But you better not kill the groove, DJ_

_Gonna burn this goddamn house right down_

  
  


I followed Maxwell’s gaze. To my surprise _Bertrand_ had just stepped into the ballroom room. I almost didn’t recognise him. Like all of the guests, he was dressed in smart evening attire. 

“He isn’t wearing a sweater vest,” I said quietly to Hana. “We _are_ honoured.”

Maxwell began to shuffle from foot to foot. “What’s he doing here?” He asked nervously. “I told him I had everything under control.”

I guessed Bertrand’s sudden appearance was a result of my phone call that morning. Was this a vote of confidence in me after all? For a brief moment he met my eyes and gave me a small, almost imperceptible, nod. 

Maxwell turned slightly pale. “Right, I’d better go and say hi. I’ll see you both later.”

As Maxwell reluctantly approached his brother, Hana and I made our way to the table at the very back of the room. 

“Welcome to the table of exiles,” said Drake with a smirk.

I rolled my eyes at him. “Now I _know_ this is the worst table in the room.”

Drake chuckled as Hana and I took our seats. “We’re all just pawns lined up on the board in Olivia’s little game.”

“Are you telling me you actually know how to play chess?” I asked sceptically.

Drake smiled. “Heh. I did grow up at the palace. You should ask Prince Liam sometime about who always won our matches.” He turned to me and Hana with a curious look. “Can either of you play?”

“I know my way around a board.”

“I know the basics,” said Hana.

I gave Hana a fond smile. “That definitely means you’re a secret Grandmaster.”

She shook her head. “My parents wanted me to give my opponents a challenging match without actually beating them. They believe suitors will find that more appealing.”

Drake let out a low whistle. “Your parents clearly put a lot of thought into this.”

Hana nodded, glancing around forlornly at our position in the room. “Drake, you don’t seem bothered at all to be seated in the back.”

He shrugged. “What can I say? After enough years of getting treated like this, you build up a thick skin. Besides, back here? Out of the spotlight? At least we can relax.”

A sheepish Maxwell approached us, sliding into an empty seat next to Drake. "Bertrand's taken my place at the top table. I've been bumped to the corner with you guys."

"Well, we're glad to have you with us," said Hana kindly.

“How did you get on with Bertrand?” I asked curiously.

Maxwell grimaced. “He couldn’t give me a lecture because there were so many important people around, but I think this might be the last time you'll see me alive.”

“We’ll send some nice flowers for your funeral,” said Drake with a smirk.

Maxwell stared gloomily down at his plate. “I knew we were all having too much fun.”

I glanced at the top table. Bertrand was seated in a position of honour at Liam’s left-hand side. To my surprise, he was actually smiling.

“Wait, Maxwell. Duke Judgement is _smiling_?”

“I’m too scared to look, Estella,” Maxwell replied mournfully. “But I’ll take your word for it.”

Drake sneered. “Bertrand puts the effort in when it comes to people he considers worth his while.” He looked at me meaningfully. “He just doesn’t consider us _lowly commoners_ deserving of good manners.” His tone was noticeably bitter. There was obviously no love lost between Drake and the Duke. 

“Look on the bright side, Drake,” I said cheerfully. “He probably likes you more than he likes me.”

“Or me,” Maxwell added glumly.

Hana, meanwhile, was eagerly watching the servers carry dishes of delicious-smelling food to the other tables. “The food looks amazing. I hope they serve us soon! I’m so hungry!”

“I wouldn’t get your hopes up,” said Drake, his tone still bitter. “Where we’re seated, we’ll be the last to eat… If there's even any left by the time they get to us.”

Maxwell watched a bowl pass by longingly. “If Bertrand hadn’t turned up, I’d be eating the second course by now.”

***

Thirty minutes later, there was still no sign of our soup course.

“Wow… the service here is terrible,” said Hana sadly. 

“All by design,” said Drake, shooting a glare at the top table. 

I followed his gaze. Olivia was leaning toward Liam, laughing animatedly at whatever he’d just said, her eyes alight with genuine delight. Bertrand was also nodding along politely.

“Do you think if I pretend to faint they’ll feed me?” Maxwell asked hopefully. 

Drake raised a sceptical eyebrow. “Do you really want to cause a scene in front of your brother?”

“Good point,” said Maxwell sadly, slumping down in his seat. 

Twenty minutes later, four bowls of lobster bisque were delivered to our table. Olivia seemed to have conveniently forgotten that evening that I was vegetarian. When I asked a passing waiter if I could swap for the vegetarian option, they just shook their head apologetically.

I gloomily buttered my bread roll. Something told me it was probably all I was going to get to eat that evening. 

“You’re not missing much,” said Hana forlornly. “There’s no lobster in my bowl. It’s just... _bisque_. This is the saddest soup I’ve ever seen.”

Drake was examining a spoonful of soup grumpily. “ _And_ it’s ice cold. Olivia definitely did this on purpose.”

Maxwell sighed, wincing as he ate his cold soup. “Maybe she’s hoping you and Hana will pass out from hunger during the dancing if she doesn't feed you.”

As I finished my bread roll, musicians began to play. Hana and I exchanged an apprehensive glance as Olivia stood up at the top table. 

“Hello, dear guests, and welcome to the Nevrakis family’s château.” She beamed smugly at her assembled guests. “It means so much that you would join me in this place that's so dear to my heart. I hope that you enjoy the festivities tonight as much as I will. Now, everyone, please join me up front to begin the Cordonian Waltz!”

“But we haven’t finished eating!” Hana said in shock. 

“I don’t think she cares,” Drake replied darkly. 

“ _They’ve_ finished eating,” said Maxwell glumly. “Didn’t you see the trays of profiteroles go by?”

“Well… let’s do this,” I said unenthusiastically. 

Maxwell, Hana and I stood up. Drake hung back, looking uncomfortable.

“Aren’t you joining us, Drake?” Hana asked.

He shook his head awkwardly. “Waltzing isn’t my thing. I’ll be here with the…” He glanced down sadly at his bowl of cold bisque. “... food.”

As we moved towards the dance floor, Maxwell turned to me, a horrified expression dawning on his face. “Oh god… wait a second, do you even know the Cordonian Waltz?”

I raised an eyebrow at him. “I practised with Hana, but a _little warning_ from you would’ve been nice.”

His face fell. “Sorry… I knew I was forgetting something…”

I swallowed down my annoyance. “It’s fine. Hana was an excellent teacher, hopefully I won't make a complete fool out of myself.”

***

We arrived at the dance floor in time to hear Liam ask Olivia to dance. 

Olivia’s eyes lit up triumphantly as she curtsied. “Of course. _Anything_ for you, Prince Liam…”

“It would be unspeakably rude for Prince Liam to not dance the waltz with the hostess,” Hana whispered to me as we watched Liam bow to Olivia.

“I guess that’s what happens when you have home court advantage…” I replied quietly. 

As Tariq approached Hana, Maxwell turned to me with a smile. “That doesn’t mean you won’t dance though… In fact, Lady Estella, may I have the honour of this waltz?”

Before I could reply, Bertrand tapped his brother meaningfully on the shoulder. “Ahem… I think it’s best if _I_ step in here.”

“Right,” said Maxwell quickly, turning slightly pale. “Yes, excellent thinking… I’ll go and… keep Drake company.”

Bertrand bowed stiffly to me. I didn’t think I’d ever seen someone bow so reluctantly before. 

“Lady Estella…”

“Your Grace…” I replied coolly. 

We didn’t speak as the waltz began. Bertrand put one hand on my waist and raised my other hand in a classic ballroom pose. 

“Did you go through the steps with Lady Hana?”

“Yes.”

He nodded curtly. “Good.”

He was obviously a good dancer. At first that surprised me, but I quickly remembered that waltzing was _exactly_ the kind of courtly art that someone with Bertrand’s high regard for protocol and appearances would master. Remembering Hana’s words about the waltz as a form of conversation, I waited for the slight pressure on my hand from Bertrand to indicate that he was going to step forward. When he did so, I moved backward, and he guided me in an elegant glide down the length of the room. 

He looked rather surprised. “That wasn’t terrible.”

I resisted the urge to roll my eyes. “Hana’s a very good teacher. Anyway, _Your Grace_. What brings you to Lythikos? I don’t believe we were expecting you?” I was thinking back to his words in the library at the Palace: _with Countess Madeleine in the contest, your chances are negligible_.

He glanced briefly toward where Maxwell was sitting with Drake. “I am here because I clearly cannot trust my brother with even the simplest of tasks.”

Just ahead, I saw Olivia and the Prince prepare to glide into a spin. 

Bertrand met my eyes. “Ready?”

I just nodded. He grasped my hands and I relaxed, allowing him to spin me in time to the waltz. I kept my eyes carefully fixed on a portrait of one of Olivia’s ancestors in order to prevent myself from becoming dizzy. 

As I finished spinning, Bertrand examined me critically. “You made a suitable outfit choice.”

I opened my mouth in exaggerated surprise. “My my, was that actually a compliment?”

He just frowned in response. “Time for the last step…”

He twirled me around so that I was facing outwards, my back to him, and then he drew me close, his arms around me. I could feel the warmth of his body against mine and smell his cologne. It was stronger than Liam’s: a smokier scent, with a hint of cardamom. I had to fight to suppress a laugh. I imagined I was probably the last person in the world he wanted to be dancing a romantic waltz with. 

“This seems a little scandalous for the ballroom.”

He cleared his throat. “The Cordonian Waltz is a romantic dance. Historically, it used to be that this waltz was one of the few ways that couples could court.”

“I can see why. It’s rather intimate.”

“Indeed,” he replied stiffly. 

We swayed together for several beats before he let go of my hands. “Time to switch partners. Just repeat the same steps.” I got the impression he couldn’t wait to be rid of me. 

I glided forwards, and on the next strain of the waltz I found myself in Lam’s arms. He smiled warmly in greeting. I suspected he’d carefully manoeuvred to dance next to me and Bertrand so that we’d meet during the partner change. 

“Hello, Prince Liam…”

“Why, hello there, Lady Estella.”

“Fancy running into you.”

He chuckled. “You mean, on the dance floor of a private ball during a choreographed waltz?”

I smiled. “Well, when you put it that way, it seems inevitable... But to be fair, I haven’t seen a lot of you lately.”

He smiled apologetically. “True. I have been a little preoccupied. Olivia is the hostess… and I’d be remiss in my duties if I didn’t spend time with all of the women here.”

I nodded. “Don’t worry, I understand that. I know that you need to make the right choice for the Crown.”

His smile wavered for a moment. “Yes. No matter how I feel…” He gave his head a small shake. “Well, we’ll see what happens in the coming weeks…”

As Liam led me into the twirl, I was conscious of Bertrand watching us closely whilst he waltzed with Lady Penelope. It occurred to me that this was probably the first time he’d observed Liam and I interacting.

As Liam held me close against him, he lowered his mouth to my ear. “But, Estella, you should know… You _are_ special to me…”

He spun me out of the move in time to the music, and I held his gaze, my heart leaping in my chest. As we stared happily at each other, Olivia loomed into my field of vision.

 _“Ahem_. Lady Estella. I believe he’s _my_ partner now…” I could tell from her disgruntled expression that Bertrand hadn’t been the only one watching me and Liam together. 

I reluctantly let go of Liam’s hands, returning to Bertrand’s arms. 

He examined me curiously. “Hmm.”

I raised an eyebrow. “Hmm?”

“Estella, I’m curious. What exactly are you doing here?”

“Dancing at a ball.” I replied innocently. 

He frowned. “I mean, _here_ in Cordonia. Why are you here trying to win the hand of Prince Liam?”

I considered my answer, wondering how honest to be with the disdainful Duke. “Well… there’s something special about Liam. I knew that from the moment we met, and I didn’t even know he was a prince back then. And now, I have this incredible chance, thanks to Maxwell... _and you_ ,” I added tactfully. “It made sense to see where things would go.” I quickly decided not to share with him the details of my existential crisis following my parents’ death. He didn’t need to know why I’d been so willing to give up my life in New York. 

He studied my face thoughtfully as we moved through the waltz steps. 

“What? Too sentimental?” I asked with quirked lips. 

He shook his head. “No… I think I see it now.”

“See what?”

“You have a certain… _something_.” He sighed, his grey eyes looking at me curiously, as if trying to read all of the secrets of my character from my face. “Maybe it’s charm. I’m not sure… But watching you with Prince Liam, it _is_ obvious that he cares about you. Perhaps we do have some slim sliver of a chance after all...”

“I _think_ that’s nice of you to say.” 

He frowned. “Don’t celebrate yet. We still have our work cut out for us. It could all end tomorrow.”

“Couldn’t end it on a high note, could--”

I trailed off when I saw a flicker of surprise dart across Bertrand’s face. It was quickly swallowed by a carefully neutral expression. 

Following his gaze, I turned to see Olivia kissing Liam on the dance floor. My stomach dropped with a lurch of jealousy, but I was careful to keep my face blank and just watched quietly as Olivia wrapped her arms tightly around him. After way too long a moment, Liam gently pulled away. 

“Liam…” Olivia said happily, her face glowing. 

Liam glanced around, his cheeks pink. “Olivia, uh, let’s… _talk_. Perhaps outside?”

As Liam and Olivia stepped away, the waltz resumed. 

“That was a singularly undignified move on Duchess Olivia’s part,” said Bertrand. “I believe she may have just overstepped.”

“She’s certainly been confident here.”

He met my eyes. “You remained very calm.”

I raised an eyebrow at him. “Did you think I was going to scream or run away in tears?”

A hint of a smile played at his lips. “Perhaps.”

“Maybe you’ve underestimated me, _Your Grace_.”

His customary frown made a reappearance. “ _That_ remains to be seen.”

As the waltz concluded, he looked at me seriously. “May I suggest that you take the opportunity to go and speak to the other suitors?”

“You mean play a little politics, have a few strategic words in the right ears?”

He was obviously surprised. “Exactly. If you can drive a wedge between any of the others and Olivia, it might weaken her position.”

Maxwell had appeared at his brother’s shoulder. “Kiara looked _really_ upset by Olivia’s little show. This is definitely an opportunity to try and get on her good side!”

Bertrand nodded. “Lady Kiara is highly respected at court. If she has good things to say about you, it will help your reputation.”

I smiled at the brothers. “Don’t worry, I’ll go and be charming.”

Maxwell grinned. “See, Bertrand? You could have stayed at the Palace!” Bertrand just glared at him in response, and Maxwell shrank backwards. 

***

The other suitors had congregated by an elegant champagne display. I moved to join them.

“Well, that was a bold play...” I heard Penelope say gloomily as I approached.

“Indeed,” Madeleine replied calmly. “Little Olivia is growing up at last. How sweet.” Madeleine appeared entirely unruffled by this development. She was calmly sipping champagne, immaculately dressed in a teal evening gown. 

“Aren’t you upset by this?” Hana asked her curiously. 

Madeleine turned to her with a small, unconcerned shrug. “Ostentatious displays of affection are for those who are either unrefined or insecure. I am neither.”

“We always knew that she and the Prince were close,” said Penelope forlornly. “She’s probably already won.”

Next to her, Kiara was obviously fuming. “It was a power move if you ask me.”

Madeleine moved away to speak to someone, and with a meaningful glance at me, Maxwell stepped in to ask Penelope to dance. That left Hana and I alone with Kiara. I gave Hana a conspiratorial smile. I knew she’d already guessed my plan. 

Picking up a glass of champagne, I turned to Kiara. “Let’s discuss Olivia. What did you think of her little display?”

Kiara frowned. “I can’t believe her. She wouldn’t have the guts to do that anywhere else. She’s gone mad with power here.”

I nodded in agreement. “I think Olivia has recognised that she clearly has the upper hand. She’s the greatest threat here.” I glanced between Kiara and Hana. “It’ll take more than one of us to beat her.”

Kiara regarded me thoughtfully. “Interesting…”

“We need to stick together,” I said calmly. “Otherwise, we don’t stand a fighting chance against Olivia.”

“We could all put in a good word for each other?” Hana suggested.

“Are you proposing an alliance?” Kiara asked curiously. She sipped her champagne, clearly considering the suggestion. “I wouldn’t normally entertain the idea… but you are fitting in remarkably well…” Her eyes lingered on me. “Maybe you could both be important allies.”

“We’ll support you too,” I said. “Olivia’s friendship is a one-way street. Why should you always let her get her way?"

Kiara nodded. “Oui, you make a fair point.”

Hana smiled. “We all need people to speak well of us. We can help each other out.”

I glanced around and spotted Liam and Olivia returning to the ballroom together. I lowered my voice. “We need to have each other’s backs if we’re going to take down Olivia.”

Kiara was watching them too. She turned back to us with a smile. “You know… We _could_ all benefit from a little well-placed support here and there.”

I smiled back. “I’m glad we see it the same way.”

“Now, if you’ll excuse me, I should mingle. A bientôt.”

Hana smiled at me as we watched Kiara vanish into the crowd of guests. “That was a good idea, Estella.”

I shrugged. “It seemed like an opportune time to take steps to weaken Olivia’s power base.”

Hana glanced over to where Olivia was standing chatting to a group of her guests. “I hope Liam doesn’t marry her. She’s so unkind.”

“He didn’t exactly pull away immediately when she kissed him,” I said bitterly. 

Hana chewed her lip thoughtfully. “I think he was trying to avoid causing a scene. I could tell that he was embarrassed.”

Maxwell came back over to join us. “How did you get on?” He asked eagerly. “I hope it was worth the intense poodle chat I just endured for you. I never knew there were so many different types of kibble, and to be honest, I didn’t _want_ to know.”

I shook my head in amusement. “I think Kiara’s agreed to put in a good word for Hana and I every now and again.”

Maxwell grinned. “Excellent.”

“How did you escape your brother?” Hana asked him with a small smile.

“He’s having an _extremely_ boring conversation about model boats. I took the opportunity to run away.” He turned to me with an air of exaggerated formality. “How about a waltz, Lady Estella?”

“It would be my honour, Lord Maxwell.”

***

Maxwell talked me through the steps of a Viennese waltz.

“You’re a fast learner!”

“I’ve had a few ballroom lessons in the past. Fortunately, this isn’t all completely new to me.”

He smiled, but then his expression grew more serious. “I wanted to apologise,” he said genuinely. “It was really not cool of me to forget to teach you the Cordonian Waltz. I’ve been…” His face fell, and he shook his head as if he’d said too much. “I just got distracted. I’m really sorry, Estella.”

It occurred to me that I really didn’t know much about Maxwell. Liam, Hana and, ironically, even _Drake_ had all opened up to me more. For all Maxwell’s smiles and joviality, there was something guarded in his demeanour. It was obvious there was something on his mind, but I knew without asking that he wouldn't be willing to discuss it. 

“It’s okay, Maxwell. Hana got me through it.”

“You danced it like a pro! Even if you did have to deal with Bertrand.”

“It wasn’t so bad. I think it’s the first time we’ve managed an interaction without openly glaring at each other.”

Maxwell chuckled. “It was quite something watching the two of you having to perform a romantic waltz. Y’know, I think he’s slowly starting to realise you’re actually a strong contender in this contest.”

“Hopefully he’ll at least be a bit less willing to write me off as a hopeless case.”

“Definitely!” Maxwell paused, glancing around the dancefloor thoughtfully. “Though... in some ways it isn’t actually all bad if people underestimate you.”

“Because you lull them all into a false sense of security, making it easier to take them by surprise?”

He grinned. “Exactly!”

***

At the end of the evening, as I was on my way out of the ballroom, I felt a gentle tap on my shoulder. To my slight surprise, I turned to see Liam. I hadn’t anticipated an opportunity to speak with him that evening. I’d expected Olivia to keep him tightly within her pincers. 

“Hello, Lady Estella,” he said with a warm smile. “You look lovely.” He took my hands and tenderly kissed my cheek.

I gave him my finest smile. “Liam, I’m glad you found me. I was afraid I’d have to leave the ball without seeing you again.”

His smile wavered. “I know we haven’t seen each other much this trip.”

“It’s been a hectic time…”

He nodded. “It has indeed. I spend all of these events rushing from person to person, trying to say the right things and keep all the nobles happy… But at night, I find myself lying awake for hours in the grand suite, unable to sleep.”

I was tempted to ask what was keeping him awake, but there were too many people around to do so subtly. “The grand suite? That sounds impressive.”

“Oh, it’s the best room. It’s upstairs at the end of the quiet east wing. It comes with everything… even a hot tub under the stars, overlooking the mountains.”

“That sounds romantic.”

He took a discrete step toward me. “It would be… with the right person. Unfortunately, I’ve got no one to share it with.”

I inched a little closer to him. “Maybe I can help you with that.”

“Oh? Are you sure you can manage it?”

I raised a mischievous eyebrow. “Wouldn't you prefer to invite Olivia?”

He winced. “That was an unexpected advance. She caught me by surprise. I thought it would be better to handle it quietly and cause less of a scandal… I didn’t want to embarrass her.”

I gave him a reassuring smile. “I’m not judging you, Liam. I don’t have any claim on you.”

He lowered his voice. “I think we both know that isn’t exactly true.” He looked at me hopefully, his blue eyes fixed on mine. “So, is there any chance I’ll see you later?”

“I’m not making any promises… yet.” But we both knew from my smile that the answer was _yes_. 

Penelope appeared and hovered awkwardly between us. “Prince Liam?” She asked hopefully. “If I might interrupt?” I wondered if it was Liam’s turn to be enlightened on the wonderful world of kibble. 

Liam took a polite step away from me, greeting her with a smile. “Of course. I know we haven’t spoken all day, Lady Penelope. Lady Estella, good night.” Liam winked at me as he kissed my hand then turned back to Penelope. 

I looked up to see Bertrand watching us intently from across the room. I gave him a smug smile. _See_ , _Your Grace_ , I thought, _Liam and I do have a bond_.

***

I returned to my room, allowing enough time for Liam to escape his social obligations and for the majority of the guests to turn in for the night.

Slipping out into the corridors, I followed Liam’s directions to his room. I carefully tested each step for creaks and hid in the shadows whenever anyone was nearby. I knew that getting caught sneaking into Liam’s room after hours would be a _major_ faux pas. I’d be even less popular with the other suitors than Olivia after her dance floor stunt. 

When I reached Liam’s room, I tapped quietly on the door. He immediately opened it with a smile, stepping aside so that I could slip quickly inside. 

“Welcome. I take it nobody saw you.”

“I was stealthier than a cat on the prowl.” 

Liam offered me his hand. “I want to show you something.”

I took his hand, and he led me onto a patio outside. There was a stunning view of the Alpine landscape. The snow shimmered luminously in the moonlight. It was easy to understand exactly why Olivia was so proud of her home. A large hot tub dominated the patio, surrounded by flickering candles. A bottle of champagne on ice and two champagne flutes rested on a small table. 

“Wow…”

Liam nodded, watching me earnestly to see my reaction. “Beautiful, isn't it? Now you see why I wanted to share it with someone.”

I turned to him with a curious smile. “Liam, I can’t be the first suitor you’ve brought out here.” There was absolutely no way that Olivia would set Liam up with a hot tub and not manoeuvre herself into it.

He turned slightly pink. _Clearly I’d guessed correctly_. “Olivia did insist we end her tour of the château in here.”

“You astonish me…” 

Liam smiled apologetically. “I didn’t light any candles for her.” He sighed. “It was slightly awkward to be quite honest.”

“Well, I’m very happy that _I_ get candles.”

“Well, yes. I wanted this to be... magical.” He looked almost anxious. “Was it… do you like it?”

“I _love_ it. Thank you for doing something so thoughtful.”

“You look so beautiful in the candlelight.” He took my right hand in his, gently massaging it with his thumb. “Estella… I’ve never really had someone that I wanted so badly to please. I feel like I’d do anything to see you smile and know that I was the cause.”

My heart fluttered in my chest. _I really hoped that he hadn’t said all of this to Olivia too._ “Liam…”

He recovered some of his princely composure and reluctantly let go of my hand. “Ahem. Now, I don’t know about you, but I’m ready to get into the hot tub.”

Liam removed his shirt and hung it on the railing. I’d seen him without a shirt before at the derby, but I’d forgotten just how muscular he was, and just _how good_ he looked shirtless. 

“Brisk,” he said with a smile, as he slipped out of his suit pants. “Your turn.”

I reached for the zip on my dress, then turned to him with a playful smile. “You know, I’ve got _all_ these layers, and we could be here all night if I don’t have a little help removing them."

“I would be a terrible gentleman if I didn’t help a lady in need.”

Liam gently helped me out of my outfit, letting it fall to the ground. His eyes widened as they roamed over my body, lingering on the curve of my breasts in my thin strapless bra. It was very cold, so I was conscious of my erect nipples. Judging by the growing bulge in Liam’s boxers he was conscious of them too. _I’m still in this game, Olivia._

“Wow… that _is_ brisk.”

“Then let’s warm up.”

Liam held out his hand. I took it, and he led me into the hot water. I sunk into it gratefully, melting into the water as I leaned against a soft jet.

“Ohh. This feels nice.”

“There are a few things better than a hot tub in the snow.” Liam moved closer to me, his gaze lingering on my face. “Estella, I feel like I’ve been waiting for this moment the entire trip.”

“I know what you mean. Liam, we’re _finally_ alone together.”

He smiled. “Exactly. I feel like I can be myself around you. You don’t know how rare that is for me. I’ve spent so long building up an image for the rest of the world… but you let me just be Liam.”

“I happen to like Liam.”

“I’m glad to hear that.” 

I lay back in the tub, enjoying the warmth of the water. “So, how have you enjoyed your time in Lythikos?”

“The princely answer, or the honest one?”

I met his eyes. “I always want the honest answer, Liam.”

He nodded. “It’s been draining. Each day I have to play the role of the perfect Prince, ensuring that I’m fair to all of the suitors. All the while I’m acutely aware that most of them will leave disappointed and that our conversations are shallow and meaningless.” He sighed. “It leaves me feeling guilty and lonely.” He looked at me intently. “You may be the only woman here who truly knows me. That’s why I’ve got to be careful with you.”

“Careful?”

His face fell. “I would never forgive myself if I… if I hurt you in any way.”

I moved toward him in the water. I could tell from the expression on his face that he wanted to close the distance but was holding back. “I know what I’m getting myself into, Liam. I signed up for this knowing it would be an... unusual situation.” I reached for his hand and he held it tightly. “Besides, you’re the model of a good person. You’re always thinking of others and putting them first… whether it’s Olivia, your people, or your friends. You’re loyal, caring and sweet. I don’t believe you’re going to hurt me.”

He smiled gratefully. “You’re far too kind, Estella.”

“No, Liam. I’m just calling it like I see it.”

He laughed. “I thoroughly believe that if you thought I was a pompous ass, you wouldn’t hesitate to tell me. I trust you, Estella. Everything you say.” He leaned closer to me. “Maybe that’s why I’m drawn to you.”

I leaned in, closing what little space remained between us, our lips met in a gentle but lengthy kiss. 

“Estella…” Liam stroked the side of my face with his hand, staring intently into my eyes.

“What is it?”

“I’m just curious… what does love mean to you, Estella?”

His question caught me by surprise. _Love? We were already talking about love?_ I could easily imagine falling in love with Liam, but I wasn't there yet. We'd only known each other for a few weeks. 

I considered my answer carefully. _How would Liam want me to see love?_ “Love is… Building a happy life together."

He smiled. “That’s a very sweet picture of love.”

“What about you?”

He considered, glancing out at the snowy landscape. “I don’t know that I’ve ever thought about it in the past. I certainly wasn’t raised to have any expectation of romance in my life. It was only when I saw my brother fall completely in love that I realised how important… how _life-changing_ love can be.”

My heart was beating faster. _Was he trying to tell me he was falling for me? Or was this just philosophical musing?_

“What are you saying?”

He met my eyes again. “I’m saying… Oh, Estella. I shouldn’t be saying anything to you, not right now. Part of me is furious with myself that I’m not treating everyone fairly like a good prince should. But the other part of me wants to damn all these princely responsibilities and throw myself into you.” 

I felt immediately torn. I was very attracted to Liam, and in any other circumstances I would happily let him throw himself into me, but I knew I had to handle this situation carefully. I needed Liam to know that I could be responsible and supportive. 

“Liam… Should I leave? I don’t want you to feel torn because of me.”

He shook his head earnestly. “No… Please don’t go yet. In this moment, let’s just enjoy this little time together while it lasts.”

He wrapped his arm around me, and I rested my head back against his shoulder. We watched the moonlight over the mountains.

“I treasure all of our moments together, Estella," he murmured into my hair. 

“Me too. What happened to Leo’s love?” I asked curiously. "Did it work out?"

He shook his head. “She married someone else. A bartender.”

“Oh... Is he okay?”

“He’s getting there. He's much happier now that he's abdicated. He knew himself well enough to realise he could never be happy in this life."

"I hope that _you_ can be happy in this life, Liam."

He held me a little closer to him. "Thank you, Estella... Although, I'm afraid it's getting late,” he said with a reluctant sigh.

“Yeah…”

“I suppose we should head in.”

I nodded. “You’re right. But I enjoyed it while it lasted."

Once we were dressed, I turned to him hopefully. "I’ll see you soon?"

He met my lips in brief kiss. “You know I can only stay away from you for so long.” 

I had to stifle the spring in my step as I made my way stealthily back to my bedroom. 

***

The next morning, I was woken up by an insistent knock at my door. I groaned as I looked at the time. It was seven am. I’d only left Liam’s room at three, so I’d had less than four hours sleep. I was also incredibly hungry. 

I threw on a robe over my pyjamas and opened the door to see both Beaumont brothers. They looked irritatingly awake. I stepped aside to let them into my room.

“We need to talk," said Bertrand seriously.

“About?” I asked warily. 

“It’s time to strategize," he replied impatiently. “If we’re going to stand even a fighting chance, it’s time to work together.” His eyes narrowed. “We have a great deal of planning to do.”

I met his eyes with a small smirk. “Well, I’m glad to have you on board.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I've borrowed some more dialogue from the failed rewrite tour scene here, it definitely seemed to fit better at this point. 
> 
> Song lyrics at the start of this chapter are from Murder on the Dancefloor by Sophie Eliis-Bextor.


	8. Race to the Finish

_Now's your moment_

_Floating in a blue lagoon_

The next afternoon, Bertrand and Maxwell went through the schedule for the coming weeks in excruciating detail.

“There are of course some unknowns,” Bertrand explained, pacing backward and forward across the room. “For example, precisely _which_ challenges the Queen will ask the suitors to perform at Applewood. It could be anything from a baking competition to floral design.”

“Okay.” I made a mental note to at least watch some YouTube tutorials on flower arranging and baking.

“Apples,” said Maxwell. “Read about apples.”

Bertrand nodded. “Indeed. The visit to Applewood will coincide with the apple harvest. The more you know about the significance of apples to Cordonia, culturally _and_ economically, the better.”

“So, the next big event,” said Maxwell cheerfully, spinning around on an office chair, “is the Regatta.” He looked at me hopefully. “You’ve been to a regatta before, right?”

“Well, I’ve been to a boat race, and I’ve been sailing, but _sailboats_ , not _luxury_ _yachts_.”

“Close enough,” said Maxwell with a grin.

Bertrand stopped pacing for a moment and raised a sceptical eyebrow. “ _You’ve_ been sailing?”

I shrugged. “I have friends who are keen on sailing.” I found it easiest just to let Bertrand be judgemental. I wasn’t going to waste my time trying to win his approval like a performing seal. 

Bertrand resumed pacing. “Anyway, you will be participating in the Regatta’s first race--”

“Wait, I’m going to be _what_?” I felt a twinge of panic. I didn’t know how to sail a yacht. I didn’t think that was something I could learn from a YouTube video. 

Bertrand waved a hand almost dismissively. “Anytime a social season involves picking a royal bride, the first race of the Regatta is traditionally one that all the suitors participate in. It’s mostly for show really…” 

I felt my panic abate slightly. “Okay, so there’s no pressure to win then…”

Bertrand frowned, his stern eyebrows moving ominously toward each other. “Oh, there’s _pressure_. The Regatta is one of King Constantine’s favourite events, so it’s an opportunity to get in his good graces. But you needn’t worry. I’ve commissioned a qualified crew to man your boat. You just worry about looking good at the railing.” 

“Noted.”

Bertrand rubbed his temples. “You’ll need to be on top form going forward. Olivia has pulled ahead in the contest here, although her strategy is high risk.” 

Maxwell looked at his phone for a moment, then looked up with a grin. “Your odds are five to one. You’re already ahead of Penelope and Hana.”

I was slightly surprised. “Do people actually bet on this?”

“Of course they do,” said Maxwell. “Try not to worry about that though. Stick to reading the coverage in _Trend._ That will give you enough insight into what the people are thinking.” 

“Now,” said Bertrand. “I suggest we all go and pack for our return to the Palace tomorrow.”

***

The morning of the Royal Regatta I went for a very early breakfast with Maxwell and Bertrand. 

Maxwell was in high spirits. “Ahh… It’s nice to be back. Don’t get me wrong, I _loved_ our ski château adventure, but give me a good beach party any day!” I was beginning to realise that parties were definitely Maxwell’s thing. He was usually enthusiastic, but the mention of the _P_ word was enough to have him bouncing around like Tigger, if Tigger subsisted only on blue smarties.

I glanced at Duke Nostradamus, who was gazing out of a window, his brow furrowed. He’d been noticeably quiet over breakfast that morning. He hadn’t even made any scathing remarks or prophecies of doom.

I watched him curiously. “Something is different today… It’s _Bertrand_. He hasn’t said anything grumpy all morning.”

Bertrand snapped his head toward me. His expression still distracted. “What?”

I raised a curious eyebrow. “Normally, you’d be saying things like… _It’s not a beach party, it’s a dignified_ beach soirée. Or… _Don’t embarrass House Beaumont today, commoner_.”

Maxwell grinned. “He does say stuff like that, doesn’t he?”

Bertrand sighed. “I suppose I’m distracted. I’ve been dealing with some complicated matters concerning our estate.”

“Oh… What do you mean by ‘complicated’?”

He glared at me. “It doesn’t really concern you…”

I shrugged. “Actually, in a way it _does_. Like it or not, I’m linked with House Beaumont in the public consciousness. _You_ sponsored me, so technically I’m part of your house now.” 

Maxwell nodded. “As am I. So... if you need help… we’re here.” There was something about the expression on Maxwell’s face that hinted at uncertainty, as if he knew his words didn’t quite ring true. 

Bertrand looked between us wearily. “I… I appreciate the sentiment. But for now, the most helpful thing you can do is make sure the Prince chooses _our_ candidate.” He ran a hand through his hair. “Now, I apologise for being distracted. You have my full attention.” He examined my outfit critically. I’d worn casual clothes for breakfast, jeans and a black tank top. “I have to ask, is that what you plan on wearing today, Estella?” 

“And he’s back,” I said rolling my eyes.

“I think she looks good…” said Maxwell kindly. I guessed Maxwell felt increasingly guilty that House Beaumont couldn't afford to help me with my outfits. I had a sneaking suspicion I could turn up to one of these events in a dinosaur onesie, and he’d still find something nice to say.

I kept my expression carefully neutral. “Yes, absolutely. I’m wearing this, but I _might_ brush off the muffin crumbs.”

As Bertrand’s eyes widened in horror, I shook my head in disbelief. “No, of course it’s not what I’m planning on wearing.” I winced internally at the idea of Ana De Luca tearing this outfit apart on her weekly social season fashion vlog. There’d been numerous media hot takes about Penelope’s decision to wear a shrug with a beaded poodle design. It had sort of become a meme, with people photoshopping it onto various celebrities.

Bertrand frowned at me. “I hope you have chosen something suitably seaworthy.”

“Like an inflatable life vest?”

He ignored my attempt at humour. “Remember that the regatta is open to the public, so the press will be there to take photos and do interviews. It might behoove you to wear something more… nautical.”

“I’d figured that much, Bertrand.” I shook my head wearily. _Who, apart from Bertrand Beaumont, would even use the word behoove?_

***

I went to find Bertrand before we left for the Regatta. He generally haunted the library like a less charismatic Phantom of the Opera, if the Phantom of the Opera had hung around a library instead of an opera box. Plus I was pretty sure the Phantom made for a more encouraging mentor than Bertrand. 

I found him hunched over a laptop, his head in his hands. 

“Complicated estate matters?” I asked sceptically, leaning forward against a chair.

His head snapped up. “I have no desire to discuss it.” He looked visibly stressed. His eyes were bloodshot and his shoulders hunched. 

“You might live longer if you talk about it.” 

He sighed. “It is always immensely complicated to manage one of Cordonia's oldest and largest duchies, and due to our present... _situation…_ I have very little assistance. As I'm sure you've noticed, Maxwell is of limited help.”

“Couldn't you train him? He did offer to help.”

Bertrand raised a weary eyebrow. “You assume that I haven't tried. Maxwell was not raised to expect these responsibilities.”

“That doesn't mean he can't learn. He might want to.” I glanced around to check we were alone. “If things are as bad as you say, he might _have_ to.”

Bertrand grimaced. “Perhaps, but as the eldest son... this is my responsibility, my inheritance.” He sounded weary and defeated. 

“I’m guessing you can't open parts of your estate as a museum? Earn that sweet tourist income. People _love_ visiting a stately home.” I knew he’d hate the idea.

He looked at me in horror. “I will not even dignify that ridiculous suggestion with a response.”

“Well, is there anything I can do to help?”

“Your only role is to woo the Prince. I doubt any of this is within your capabilities.” He gestured at the spreadsheet open on his laptop.

I rolled my eyes. “Maybe I can serve the canapés at your next soirée. I’m sure that would be within my _capabilities_.”

He sighed. “I assume you didn’t just come here to antagonise me, Lady Estella?”

“I came to return _The Crown and the Flame_.” I held up the book. “And get your seal of approval for my outfit.”

He cast a critical eye over my navy shorts and striped Breton jumper. “I suppose it is suitable.”

“Let’s hope Liam and Ana De Luca are _slightly_ more enthusiastic.” I turned my back on him and slid _The Crown and the Flame_ back onto its shelf. 

“How did you find it?”

I turned back to him with a smirk. “You’re assuming I got past the long words?”

“I'll give you the benefit of the doubt this once."

I leaned back against the shelf. “Well, it was enjoyable. I can see why the TV series was so popular. I’ll have to watch it, but I was disappointed they changed the history.”

“How so?”

“Well, the real Queen Kenna made a political alliance with Diavolos Nevrakis. In the book she ends up with Dominic." 

He raised an eyebrow. “I'm surprised you didn’t prefer the romantic liberties.”

I crossed my arms. “Romance isn’t much use if you have a kingdom to secure. Pragmatism is essential for queens. I'm pretty sure the real Kenna knew that. Isn't it insulting to her legacy to pretend otherwise?”

He was examining me curiously. “Hmm.”

“Anyway, I’ll see you in the limo. I suspect some sunlight will do you good, _Your Grace._ ”

***

It was only a short journey from the Palace to the marina. Numerous grandiose, colourful boats sailed through the water in celebration of the Regatta. It was a warm morning, and the sun was shining. 

As I walked along the crowded docks with the Beaumonts, I was aware of the flash of the paparazzi’s cameras. Even members of the public took out their phones to snap photos when they recognised me as a suitor. Bertrand leaned in. “A word of advice: if the press corners you, be sure to hint that the Prince likes you, but don’t be too obvious about it.”

“Got it. We’re close, but not _too_ close.”

Through the throng of attendees, I felt my heart leap as I spotted Prince Liam. He immediately made his way over, looking genuinely excited to see me. 

Bertrand cleared his throat. “Ah, the Prince. Maxwell and I will get the paperwork squared away. You go mingle. Our yacht will be docked at gate B.”

As they walked off, Liam reached me. He was dressed in a flattering maroon jumper, his blond hair shining in the sunlight. “Estella… Fancy seeing you here. It must be a strange coincidence we keep showing up at the same events.” 

I smiled, moving a strand of hair out of my eyes. “Fate must be on our side.”

He leaned forward to kiss me gently on the cheek. “You look beautiful today, by the way. I like the rope belt…”

“Ha, hopefully I won’t have to use it. But I _do_ have a race to win today…”

“Ah yes, the ceremonial race. You know, it’s an honour to be part of the Regatta tradition.”

I grinned at him. “I’ve been reading about the Regatta’s symbolism. I think it’s lovely that it commemorates the generosity of the Cordonians and the strong bonds you’ve forged with your neighbours.”

Liam looked impressed. “The Cordonian response to that storm, and our determination to come to our neighbour’s aid, is one of the defining moments of our history.”

I nodded. “It’s very noble and I’m honoured to participate... Now, tell me the truth, are you enjoying yourself?

Liam looked around at the hustle and bustle of the marina. “It’s a beautiful day, the staff has been well-prepared, and we’re ready to celebrate our fine seafaring tradition. My father in particular seems in high spirits. But he always loves this event.”

“That’s all good… But you didn’t answer my question, and you’re not even smiling!” I looked at him quizzically. “What’s wrong?”

“Well…”

He shifted around uneasily. "My father loves the Regatta so much, I’ve never had the heart to tell him that I actually dislike sailing.”

“Really? I thought you were descended from Poseidon.” 

He chuckled. “Ha. Maybe I’d like boats more if that were the case. I actually used to enjoy sailing, but one experience soured me on it.”

“You have to tell me the story now.”

Liam smiled and told me about him and Drake absconding with a royal sloop as children. Apparently it was quite a perilous escapade. The sound of a herald trumpeting cut our conversation short. 

“Oh, it’s time for my father’s opening remarks.”

We both turned to watch King Constantine stand on an elevated platform. “Ladies and gentlemen of Cordonia… I welcome you all!”

The crowd around us began to bustle as reporters commenced broadcasting the main event. People were standing on tiptoes to get a better view of the King. 

Constantine smiled at the growing crowd as he continued speaking. “Today is a momentous day. As you know, I have a soft spot for the Royal Regatta, and it remains one of my favourite events of the social season. Because this event has always held historical significance and personal importance, I have chosen today to make my announcement…” He paused for dramatic effect, next to me Liam visibly tensed. _He obviously wasn't expecting this._ “... As of the end of this social season, I will be stepping down as your reigning monarch. In a few weeks’ time, Prince Liam will be your new king.”

My gaze immediately snapped to Liam. His expression was one of absolute astonishment, but he quickly regained his princely composure. I knew what this meant. Liam’s bride would immediately be the queen. She would have no time to prepare for the task. This would count significantly in Madeleine’s favour: she was far ahead of us all in preparation for the role. 

Several reporters rushed forward, lobbing questions and thrusting microphones at the King, but he silenced them by authoritatively raising his hand. “I expect you all have questions. I promise you in due time that I’ll release an official statement. For today, allow an old man time to enjoy the festivities. Let the Regatta begin!”

As Constantine stepped down amidst a barrage of flashing cameras, Liam led me away from the crowd toward a quiet spot on the docks.

“Liam, are you okay?”

“Yeah, I’m fine. But it’s a _shock_ , let’s say.” He paused for a moment. “I always knew my father would retire… Just not so soon. To realise that I’m going to become King in a matter of weeks... That’s a lot.”

I looked at him anxiously. He sounded relatively calm, but his face was flushed. “Liam, not many guys have to ascend to the throne _and_ choose a wife all at once…”

He swallowed, looking at me intently. “It means that my future bride will be thrown directly into the role of queen.”

I gave him a reassuring smile, trying to say _don’t worry I can handle it_ with my eyes. “It seems like this really caught you off-guard.”

He nodded. "My father usually keeps my counsel on all matters. I wonder why he didn’t discuss this with me…” He gave himself a small shake, forcing himself to smile. “I’ll talk to him later. For now, he’s right. We should just try to enjoy today.”

I was still worried about him. This would be a huge amount to process. It wasn't news anyone would want to receive in public while they were surrounded by curious news outlets. 

“Liam…”

I reached out to touch his arm but stopped as we noticed some members of the press making a beeline for us. 

Liam sighed quietly. “We should answer a couple of questions to satisfy them. Time to put our best smiles on…”

I smiled at him. “No can do. I only reserve my best smiles for you…”

He laughed. “At least give them half your best.”

We stood still, allowing the press to catch up with us. The now familiar figures of Donnie Brine from _CBC_ and Ana De Luca from _Trend_ were at the front of the group. 

“Your Highness… A few questions please?”

Liam smiled at Donnie. “Of course.”

Donnie held out his microphone. “The King’s announcement was quite a surprise! What do you think about it? When did you find out?”

“As much as I’d love to answer, my father has made it clear he’ll issue a statement later. For now, I can’t comment.” It was a practised politician’s answer, cool and confident. 

Donnie sighed. “If you can’t talk about the announcement, then we’ll have to talk about something else… You’re looking awfully friendly with _The American_ …”

Liam smiled. “Is that what they’re calling Lady Estella?”

Donnie nodded. “They’re interested in the foreign lady who’s caught your eye. But let’s cut to the chase. What’s the real connection between you two? After all, we’re a third of the way through the social season, and with the King’s announcement, you’re basically choosing the future queen in a matter of weeks…”

Liam nodded calmly. “I was aware my future bride would be queen. The immediacy of my becoming king doesn't change much at this time.”

Several flashes from the various cameras went off. I stepped up next to Liam, meeting his eyes with a smile before turning to the assembled press. “You want to know what’s going on between the Prince and me? Well, I care for him, but we’re still getting to know each other.” 

Liam smiled warmly. “I couldn’t have put it better myself.” 

Donnie nodded, typing notes into his phone. “Do you feel the same way about Lady Estella, Your Highness?”

“Yes, I care for her. But as she said, we’re still learning about one another.”

Ana De Luca stepped forward, her gaze on me. I wondered anxiously what she thought of my outfit. 

“Lady Estella, surely you’re aware of the historical significance of the Royal Regatta. Do you have anything to say on this momentous day about it?”

“Of course, the Regatta is symbolic of Cordonia’s generous spirit! The people’s effort to give humanitarian aid and relief is truly inspiring, and I believe it represents Cordonia’s interconnectedness with its neighbours.” 

“Well-put,” said Ana.

“I agree,” said Liam. Before the press could ask anything else, Liam stood between me and them. “As wonderful as it has been to connect with you all, the races are about to start, and Lady Estella’s due at the starting line…”

“One last thing!” Donnie requested. “Can we get a photo of the two of you together?”

“Of course,” said Liam with a smile. 

I stood on my tiptoes and kissed Liam on the cheek.

“Perfect! Thank you, Your Highness, Lady Estella… It’s been an absolute pleasure.”

The reporters walked off, and Liam and I moved back toward the main hive of activity. 

“I think that went well,” said Liam thoughtfully. 

“Oh?”

He nodded. “I can tell by now when they like someone. I’m glad… The people take their cues from the press.” My heart leapt in my chest. _That_ _definitely_ _sounded_ _promising_. “Come on, the race is going to start soon! We should get you to your boat.”

We headed toward gate B where we saw Maxwell waving from an impressive-looking yacht. “Estella, over here!”

Liam smiled. “Your ride awaits…”

I gave him a playful grin. “You’re not coming with me? You can witness my triumph first-hand…”

He shook his head with a rueful smile. “I wish I could, but my place is with the King right now. I’ll witness your victory from there. Good luck!”

***

As Liam walked away, I hopped onto the boat and found Drake and Maxwell preparing it to sail. I looked between them in confusion. “Drake? What are you doing here? Maxwell, didn’t you leave with Bertrand? And shouldn’t there be other people? Like… an actual crew?”

Drake raised an eyebrow at Maxwell, who was looking sheepish. “Yeah, _Maxwell_. What happened?”

“Well... I have good news and bad news," said Maxwell quietly.

“Tell me the bad news first," I said warily. I'd already guessed where this was going.

“The bad news is that the actual crew dropped out… Something about not paying upfront? But good news… you still _have_ a crew. In fact, Drake volunteered to help out!”

I looked at Drake who was shaking his head. “He ‘volunteered’?”

“Maxwell begged me.”

“I thought I was rather dignified.” 

“Practically in tears, actually.”

I looked between them anxiously. “And you both… know about sailing?”

Maxwell nodded eagerly. “I used to _own_ several boats, and Drake is an excellent boatman!”

I smiled gratefully at Drake. “Drake, thank you for doing this.”

He couldn't suppress a smirk. “Aw, shucks, Brook. I couldn’t leave you… up the creek without a paddle.”

“Ha… ha. Wait, what about Bertrand? Why isn’t _he_ here?” I was surprised that he hadn't immediately stepped in given the predicament. He must know how to sail, and surely it would reflect badly on House Beaumont if I performed abysmally in the race? 

Maxwell’s face fell. “His words were, and I quote, _‘Have we fallen so far? Is this what becomes of House Ramsford?’_ And then he muttered something about ruin and reducing our name to rubble and then I _hope_ he went to get a drink or something after that.”

I felt a brief stab of concern for him. “Ah… He didn’t seem to be in a good place this morning.”

Maxwell shook his head sadly. “Don’t worry, I’ll find him after the race.” 

I thought around for anyone else who might be able to help. “What about Tariq? He looks like a guy who could sail a boat. Or at least who’d talk about how many he owned.”

Drake laughed in my face. 

“It was only a thought," I said defensively.

He shook his head. “Yeah, yeah. I’m sorry to say, Brook, you’re not going to be cruising around like the other ladies. You’re going to have to do some work to help us win. I hope you’re up to the job.”

“I’ll do my best.” I was frantically trying to remember everything that I could about sailing. 

“Casting off!” Drake unfurled the sails and steered the boat to the starting line. To our left was Olivia’s boat, to our right Hana’s. 

“Good luck to you both!” Hana called happily. 

“I don’t need luck,” replied Olivia with a confident smile. “I _know_ I’m going to win! I hope you both like _losing!_ ”

***

It was Olivia who lost. Somehow, between Maxwell, Drake and I, we won. With the wind in our sails, our boat overtook Olivia’s at the last minute. We sailed over the finish line while she was still yelling at her crew to go faster. 

From the shore, King Constantine and Prince Liam applauded our victory. Maxwell gave Drake and I a gleeful pat on the back.

“Thanks, guys,” I said gratefully. 

“No worries, Brook,” said Drake. “I’m just glad we wiped that smirk off Olivia’s face.”

Returning to the harbour, Prince Liam and Kind Constantine were waiting to greet me. The King stepped forward, a wide smile on his face. “Congratulations, Lady Estella… That was some impressive sailing out there.” 

I dropped into a polite curtsy. “I can’t take all of the credit, Your Majesty… Just most of it.” 

The King laughed. “This girl has a sense of humour, Liam.”

Next to his father, Liam was beaming. “I know, Father.”

King Constantine smiled warmly. “Lady Estella, I commend you and your crew. Please enjoy the rest of the festivities…”

As the King moved to greet an approaching noble, Liam turned to me. “I wish we could stay and chat more, but the official races are about to begin, and we need to head to our places.”

I gave him a coy smile. “Liam, my place is beside you.”

He sighed wistfully. “Unfortunately you’re not allowed in the booth. You’ll have to settle for mingling with the other ladies on the Nevrakis yacht.” The expression on my face must have given away exactly how I felt about that suggestion. “I know you two don’t get along… but the party she hosts should be fun. Perhaps you and Hana can keep each other company.”

An extremely loud fanfare of trumpets erupted next to us. 

“I’ll see you later, Liam," I said with a smile. 

He quickly bowed before racing toward the royal booth.

***

As I dragged myself down the docks towards the Nevrakis yacht, Hana tapped me on the shoulder. 

“Hana, thank goodness! You’re going to Olivia’s boat, aren’t you?”

Her face fell. She almost looked tearful. “I won’t be there, sadly. My parents wanted me to host my own viewing party… But unfortunately, I’m not as popular as they expected. Olivia’s really got her hooks into the ladies here. My parents invited dozens of nobles, and no one accepted. But it would be the ultimate embarrassment to not even go to my own party!”

"I'm really sorry, Hana." I felt horrible for her. 

She bravely attempted a smile. “It’s not so bad. There’s going to be lots of appetisers and champagne and a lovely viewing deck… all just for me, I suppose.” 

I looked at her hopefully. “Hana, can I come to your party?”

Her eyes widened in surprise. “Are you sure you want to hang out on my family’s boat?”

“I definitely do!”

She smiled happily. “Then I’m very glad to invite you. Please, follow me.”

We'd taken about five steps before Maxwell sprinted over to join us.

“Hey, are you ditching Olivia?” He asked as he got his breath back.

“I’m joining Hana on her yacht.”

Maxwell looked at Hana pleadingly. “ _Please_ can I come too? I can’t find Drake, and I don’t want to go to Olivia’s party if you two won’t be there.” He glanced around the dock nervously. “Plus, I think the more distance I put between myself and Bertrand right now, the better.”

“Of course you can come,” said Hana with a smile.

He pumped his fist excitedly. “Hana, you are the greatest!”

As we followed Hana to the Lee family yacht, I looked at Maxwell quizzically. “Why are you in Bertrand’s bad books?”

Maxwell looked momentarily uncomfortable. “He’s just stressed about the crew not turning up.”

“But surely that’s not your fault?”

He shrugged awkwardly. “He’s really just blaming himself. He’ll have calmed down later.”

“He knows we won right?”

“I think so…” Maxwell rubbed the back of his neck. “Honestly, Estella, he just needs some space to rant about ruin and despair. He’ll be fine.”

I looked at Maxwell seriously. “Hmm. Well, you shouldn’t let him give you a hard time for things that aren’t your fault. It was thanks to you and Drake that we won!”

Maxwell grinned. “Don’t worry, Estella. I can handle Bertrand.”

As Maxwell caught up with Hana, eagerly asking her questions about her yacht, I couldn’t shake the feeling he was trying to escape our conversation. I glanced around the docks, but I couldn’t see any sign of Bertrand. _There was something weird about the whole situation._

Something told me things were worse for House Beaumont than the brothers were prepared to admit. I might not like Bertrand, but he was clearly stressed and placing himself under considerable pressure. There was also something... _off_ about Maxwell’s demeanour. I got the impression he felt guilty about something. I made a mental note to try and get to the bottom of it all. I’d thrown my lot in with the Beaumonts. If something was going to drag them down, it could easily take me down with them. 

“Are you thinking what I’m thinking?” Drake had appeared at my shoulder.

“Depends what you’re thinking.”

“That the Beaumonts must have some _serious_ cash flow issues for their crew to bail at the eleventh hour.”

I nodded. “Yeah, that had crossed my mind.”

Drake looked warily at Maxwell. “And that his _Lordship_ is being quite evasive about it all.”

“I’d noticed that too.”

Drake looked at me seriously. “You’ll look after yourself, right? I don’t want to sound paranoid or anything--”

“Yeah, yeah, trust nobody.”

“Something like that.”

Hana looked back at us with a smile. “Drake, will you join us on my yacht too?”

“Sure, Liam's all wrapped up with Constantine, and there's no way I'm hanging out with Olivia."

***

Maxwell, Drake and I followed Hana onto the deck.

“Welcome to my humble yacht…”

“Wow…" I said, looking around. Decadent chocolate-covered strawberries and champagne flutes were set out next to cushioned seats and silken pillows. "Everything here is so nice!”

“Very impressive,” said Drake. 

“This is quite a yacht, Hana,” said Maxwell, obviously impressed. “You put our old boats to shame.”

“Don’t you have boats now?” Hana asked curiously.

“Oh, yeah,” said Maxwell quickly. “Just different ones.”

Drake and I exchanged a brief glance. At this rate it wasn't going to be long before Maxwell slipped up and House Beaumont's financial woes became common knowledge.

Hana nodded. “It’s a public appearance, and my family wants to look good in front of the royal family. They think it’s of the utmost importance that I impress everyone here, no matter how extravagant the display.”

I smiled at her. “You can consider me impressed. Seriously, just one bottle of this champagne is probably worth more than I made in a whole week waiting tables in New York.”

“Well, what’s mine is yours. Please, enjoy whatever you want.”

A waiter approached with a tray of chilled champagne flutes, and we all helped ourselves to drinks. There were at least a dozen waiters at the ready, and countless battles of champagne resting in chilled buckets. 

“We could drink about twenty bottles each,” said Maxwell in awe.

Drake shook his head. “Maybe don’t try that, Beaumont, or you’ll never even reach the beach party.”

Hana smiled sadly. “This is actually _a_ _lot_ of champagne, even for a party. Well, the ship is new and hasn’t been named yet. Naming it would've been cause for celebration.” Suddenly though she smiled. “But since you’re all here, I’m hoping you’ll help me christen it.” 

“You want _our_ help?” Maxwell asked incredulously.

Hana nodded eagerly. “Yeah! It’ll be fun!”

“What do you even name a ship?" Asked Drake, glancing around in the hope inspiration would strike. "The Flying Cordonian? Heart of Gold? Nah, they’re not nearly pretentious enough."

Maxwell looked solemnly at Hana. “Allow me to humbly submit Boaty McBoatface for your consideration.”

“How about Cordonian Dreams?” I suggested. 

Hana considered it for a moment. “Cordonian Dreams… I like it! That’s why we're both here after all.”

Drake looked between us thoughtfully. “You know, you two get on remarkably well, for rivals. Shouldn't you be off plotting each other's downfall?"

Hana looked appalled, so I gave her hand a reassuring squeeze. “I’m just hoping Hana will make me one of her ladies-in-waiting.”

"Or, I can be one of _your_ ladies-in-waiting," she replied with a kind smile. 

"All aboard _Cordonian Dreams_ ,” said Maxwell enthusiastically, reaching for another glass of champagne. 

“Not so fast," said Hana. "We need to officially christen her first!” She offered me a full bottle of champagne. “Will you do the honours?”

I shook my head. “Hana, you should do it. It’s your boat.”

“Here goes nothing!” Hana took the bottle and smashed it against the railing. The foamy beverage ran down the side of the boat.

“Woooo!" Maxwell called cheerfully. " _Cordonian Dreams_ is officially in business.”

"Just in time for the race too," said Drake, leaning against the prow. "The boats are taking their positions."

***

As the day went on we watched the races, sipped champagne, and nibbled canapés. Maxwell was the most interested in watching the races. Drake drifted off to sleep in a deck chair, snoring lightly. 

Hana turned to me with a smile as we watched the Regatta closing ceremony. “Estella… thank you for coming to my party.”

“Honestly, I should be thanking you for this party.”

She shook her head. “Oh, please. You three made it a party. Otherwise, it would’ve just been an afternoon of me crying into my champagne.”

"Well, I'm very glad it didn't come to that."

As we watched Constantine hand out medals to the winners, Hana sighed. 

“What’s wrong?” I asked anxiously. 

“They look so happy. It’s just… My whole life, I’ve done nothing but lose.” 

“But you’re amazing at _everything._ ”

She shook her head. “Nothing that really counts. I lost my fiance. I lost my family’s respect. They think I’m a complete failure.” 

"Hana, look how talented you are! You will _definitely_ feel like a winner one day. If you don't already, it's only because you haven't yet found the thing that's right for you." I walked over to the tub of champagne and grabbed a bottle. “You know… we could have our own victory celebration right now.”

“For what?”

“We’re going to celebrate our friendship! I left New York not really knowing what would be on the other side when I landed. I’m just glad I have a friend like you.” 

Maxwell bounded over to join us. "What about a friend like me?"

"You too, Maxwell," said Hana with a smile. 

I steadily poured the champagne into glasses and offered one to each of them. “Cheers.” 

“Cheers.”

"Cheers."

We clinked our glasses and drank.

Hana and I commemorated the moment with a selfie. Maxwell meanwhile had grabbed another bottle of champagne, shaken it up and sprayed the contents all over a napping Drake. 

“MAXWELL,” Drake thundered, standing up, dripping in champagne. “This stuff is sticky. If I get attacked by insects at this beach party I swear to god…”

Hana watched with an amused smile as Maxwell ducked away from an irate Drake, who was attempting to pour the remainder of the bottle of champagne over Maxwell’s head.

“I can’t believe the Regatta is already over! I was really dreading today… But thanks to you, it was more fun than I ever expected!”

“Hana, you threw an excellent party!”

***

Back on the docks, Maxwell turned to me with a grin, champagne still dripping down his face. “Ready for the beach extravaganza?”

“I think so… Will the press be there?” I asked apprehensively, checking my reflection in a pocket mirror. I was worried I’d caught the sun while watching the Regatta. My nose was _definitely_ turning red. 

Maxwell shook his head cheerfully. “Nope! It’s just a fun party on one of the most gorgeous private beaches in the area!”

“That sounds amazing, and the water’s so unbelievably beautiful," said Hana happily. "I can’t wait to get out of this dress and into my bikini.” 

Maxwell grimaced. “I knew I was forgetting something. Estella, you didn’t happen to bring a swimsuit, did you?”

I rolled my eyes. “It’s in my bag, Maxwell. It did cross my mind that a swimsuit might be useful for a beach party.”

He grinned. “You are _the_ _best_ Eliza Doolittle ever.”

“I don’t remember the bikini scene in _My Fair Lady_ ,” said Hana with a smile. 

While we made our way to rejoin the other suitors, my phone buzzed. 

**Duke** **Judgement** : I suppose I should congratulate you on your victory. The press seem happy with your performance. Try to spend some time with Prince Liam this afternoon. 

Maxwell glanced over my shoulder with a chuckle. “I can’t believe that’s what you have Bertrand’s number saved as in your phone.”

“Well _Massive Killjoy_ would have been too easily confused with Drake.”

“Oh ha ha, Brook.” He’d been in a bad mood since the champagne incident. “Can we hurry up and get to the beach party? I need to get in the sea to wash off this damn champagne that probably cost more than everything I own.”

I quickly typed a reply. 

**Estella** : You know, one of these days you’ll complement me without the words _I suppose_ in front of it, and I’ll die of shock. I take it this means you won't be attending the beach party?

_The message was read, but there was no reply_. 

Whilst it would be a relief to relax on the beach without Bertrand’s critical gaze, the mysteries of House Beaumont left me feeling uncomfortable.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, I'm definitely cheating and moving the development of the Drake/Hana/Maxwell/MC friendship forward faster than in canon. Plus Drake and MC's suspicions about something mysterious afoot in House Beaumont. I figured they'd both start questioning things after the Regatta crew were a no show. 
> 
> Song lyrics at the start of this chapter are from Kiss the Girl by Alan Menken and Howard Ashman.


	9. Attack of the Killer Crustacean

  
  


_Romeo, take me somewhere we can be alone_

_I'll be waiting, all there's left to do is run_

_You'll be the prince and I'll be the princess_

_It's a love story baby just say "Yes"_

  
  


When we arrived at the royal family’s private beach, Hana and I ducked into a tent to change into our swimsuits. Afterwards, I looked around eagerly for a sign of Liam. Maxwell followed my gaze.

“Looks like he’s tied up with the Queen and Madeleine right now.”

I felt a jealous twinge of anxiety. I knew that King Constantine’s announcement had bolstered Madeleine’s chances of success. I’d started to obsessively check the betting odds. They were now significantly in Madeleine’s favour.

“Are you going to speak to him?” Hana asked curiously. 

I shook my head. “I’m biding my time. I’ll probably only get one shot at spending time with him today, and I hope it's not when Queen Regina’s around.” I turned to Hana. “What about you?”

She bit her lip doubtfully. “Honestly, Estella, I’m not sure if I’m going to try and speak to Liam today. I think there may be more opportunities when we move to Applewood.”

“In the meantime,” said Maxwell cheerfully, “we may as well eat!”

Drake was standing at a table loaded with food. He waved us over enthusiastically. He’d already been for a quick swim to wash the champagne off. Even I had to admit that he looked good shirtless and damp.

“I hope you’re all hungry because the real food has arrived!” He actually looked _happy_ for once. 

“Is this barbecue?” Hana asked tentatively. “I’ve never had barbecue before.”

Drake nodded eagerly. “Oh, yes. Classic Americana. You’ve got your pulled pork, chicken kebabs, brisket, ribs, and sauces unique to regions around the world.” He rolled his eyes at me. “There’s even veggie "burgers" and "kebabs" for Brook. Liam thought she would appreciate it. A little taste of home.”

I reached for a veggie burger, feeling genuinely touched that Liam had thought about me. “This was his idea?”

Drake shrugged. “Mostly. From a purely selfish angle, I’m not exactly a caviar and oysters kind of guy, so..."

I shook my head in amusement. “Got it.”

Drake loaded up his plate enthusiastically. “Reminds me of cookouts on the lawn or summers with family…”

I smirked at him. “Aww, Drake, that’s actually kind of sweet…”

“It is not. Now, would you rather talk or would you rather eat?”

“Lets…” I pretended to consider for a moment. “Talk about what happened to the _real_ Drake. You’re being awfully nice. Sharing food with us, talking about family cookouts… You need to frown or something. This isn’t right.”

Drake scowled. “Happy?”

“Mostly… I’m keeping an eye on you.”

“Don’t strain yourself.”

I realised that Maxwell was watching us curiously. I made a mental note to stop sort-of-flirting with Drake. The last thing I wanted was to start any rumours that could harm my chances with Liam. Besides, the only thing that Drake and I had in common was our mutual dislike of Bertrand Beaumont. Something told me that wasn't a sufficient foundation for any kind of relationship. 

***

I went swimming with Drake and Hana later on in the afternoon, once Hana had ensured that we'd all applied waterproof sunscreen. Maxwell declined to join us, on the grounds that he wanted to lie on the beach. 

Drake insisted on having swimming races. He easily beat me and was in turn effortlessly destroyed by Hana. 

Afterwards, Hana turned to me with a grin. “Estella, in celebration of trying your best, I want to give you something.”

“Is it a treasure chest?”

“You’ll have to wait and see.”

Hana dived below the surface. Through the clear water, we could see her swim to the bottom of the shallows. She resurfaced, holding out her hand. Resting on her palm was a beautiful, shining seashell. 

“Wow! It’s lovely!”

She smiled, holding it out to me. “Surprise.”

“How did you find this?”

“I saw it sitting at the bottom while we were racing. They’re quite common in the area.”

I examined it happily. “It’s so pretty.”

Drake pouted. “How come I don’t get anything? I beat Estella.”

I stuck my tongue out at him. “Tough luck. The seashell is mine!”

Hana raised her hand. “Oh, I know.” She dived back down and resurfaced, handing Drake a sand dollar. “For you.”

Drake examined it sceptically. “What am I supposed to do with this?”

“You should wear it as a hat," I suggested flippantly.

He rolled his eyes at me. “That’s stupid. This thing is stupid.” He let his sand dollar drift back down to the seafloor.

I shook my head sadly. “Your loss, Drake. It would’ve made a great hat, like a cute sand beret.” Suddenly I _really_ wanted a beret. So far this contest hadn’t involved nearly enough millinery.

“Whatever you say, Brook.”

***

While Hana and Drake swam out for another race, I swam ashore. I found a spot on the sandy beach next to Maxwell. To my surprise, he was still fully dressed. He hadn’t even taken his shoes off. His hair was clumpy where the champagne had dried into it. 

“You seem a little overdressed for the beach.”

“Huh?”

“Don’t you want to at least kick off your shoes? Bertrand isn’t here. He isn’t going to emerge from a seashell like a terrifying hermit crab and tell you off.”

Maxwell smiled. “Well, in that case... I guess that’s a thing to do at the beach, isn’t it?” He took off his shoes and socks, wiggling his toes in the sand. “ _Now_ this is feeling more like a party. Are you having a good time?”

I shrugged. “It’s been fun to do something different, but Constantine’s announcement has been weighing on my mind.”

He gave me a reassuring smile. “I wouldn’t worry yet. There’s still a long time before the social season ends. Now we’ve left Lythikos, Olivia can’t maintain her grip on Liam’s time, and Bertrand will have some useful advice on dealing with Madeleine.”

“Thanks, Maxwell. You know, it’s nice to spend some time with you.”

He looked rather taken aback. “Oh?”

I nodded. “I’m glad that we get on and can hang out with the others. I can’t imagine sitting on a beach having a chat with Bertrand.” 

He smiled. “Well, I like hanging out with you guys too. But yeah, you’re right, the beach isn’t really Bertrand’s natural habitat.” Maxwell sighed. “He used to _love_ sailing though, but that all changed when we had to sell the family boats. I think that’s part of the reason he was so grumpy today.” He looked sadly down at his sandy toes. 

I looked at him thoughtfully. “Maxwell, you seem kinda subdued. I know how excited you were about this party.”

He smiled at me, but it seemed slightly forced. “I’m just sleepy after all that champagne. It's nice to relax on a beach.”

“I remember you that night in _Kismet_. Are you longing for a DJ and a limbo contest?”

He nodded eagerly. “That would be awesome. Think we could convince King Constantine to take part in the limbo contest?”

“That would certainly be a challenge. Is he even here?”

“Probably not. The beach party is usually an opportunity for the Princes to relax and unwind. It was always Leo’s favourite event.”

“Leo and Liam sound quite different?”

“They _look_ alike, but in terms of personality, they’re as different as me and Bertrand.” Maxwell sighed again. “Only they get on better.”

I examined him curiously. “Maxwell… What was really going on today? Why was Bertrand so upset that he couldn’t even face helping us with the race?"

Maxwell was obviously conflicted. He opened his mouth, then closed it again. “I’m sorry, Estella, but I really don’t think he’d want me to discuss it, not even with you.”

 _Even more mysterious._ I didn’t know if I could trust Maxwell. He was very likeable, and nothing about him ever seemed malicious. But it made me uncomfortable that he held his cards to his chest so tightly. 

I tried a different line of questioning. “How long has Bertrand been the head of House Beaumont?”

“Since he was nineteen.”

 _Yikes_. “Wow… That’s a lot of responsibility for a nineteen year old.”

“Yeah. He wasn’t always so serious though. That only happened…” He trailed off awkwardly, running a hand through his sticky hair. 

“When your finances declined?”

Maxwell nodded, looking at me sadly. “I know he’s hard on you, Estella. He’s convinced himself that this social season is his _last chance_ to save House Beaumont. I don’t think he realises how it comes across.”

I thought it was more likely that Bertrand simply _didn’t care_ how he came across. Still, I didn’t want to upset Maxwell. I gave him a comforting smile. “Maxwell, you don’t need to worry. I can handle Bertrand. To be honest... I probably enjoy antagonising him more than I should." I allowed myself a smirk. "This morning I suggested he open Ramsford to the public.”

Maxwell laughed. “I bet that went down well.”

“He actually turned purple. It was very funny.”

Maxwell grinned, seeming to relax a little. “I’m glad you can give as good as you get, Estella. Anyway, I hate to ruin the moment, but I see a great opportunity for you. Look over there…”

I followed his gaze to where Penelope was standing by the appetisers, dabbing at her eyes with a handkerchief. 

“Looks like she’s having a hard day,” said Maxwell meaningfully. 

“Yeah, poor Penelope… Still, at least she isn’t wearing her poodle shrug.”

Maxwell smiled. “ _This_ could be your big chance to get her on your side! Remember, competitors or not, you’re going to need the court to think well of you if you’re going to be the next queen. So get over there and charm her!”

***

I stood up, brushing the sand from my swimsuit, and made my way over to Penelope. 

“Hello, Penelope.”

“Oh, it’s _you_ ,” she said disdainfully. “The American wench.”

It was cute that she borrowed her insults from the fourteenth century. I decided to try and kill her with kindness. “Penelope, is that any way to greet a friend?”

Her eyes widened in surprise. “We’re not friends… er… are we?”

I gave her my friendliest, customer-service smile. “Perhaps not _technically_ , but I’d _like_ to be friends. It seems like you’re having a difficult time today.”

She sighed. “I suppose it’s obvious, isn’t it? I got terribly seasick from the Regatta, and now, I’ll be stuck here on this beach in the sun for hours…” She kicked peevishly at a mound of sand. “My family said I only needed to look pretty at the balls and flirt with the Prince. But it hasn’t gone that way at all.” She turned her gaze on me accusingly. “Between you, Olivia, Kiara, and Madeleine… I don’t have any chance at all. What’s the point of even staying here?”

“Penelope, there’s more to this than just the Prince.”

“Hmm?” She demanded sceptically. “Like what?”

“Like forming friendships and bonds with the other women here…” I inclined my head to where Kiara and Hana were stood chatting together by the drinks table. 

“I don’t know…”

“Even though we’re all competing now, it won’t always be that way. One of us will marry the Prince, and then it’s over… We should at least try to get something more out of it, don’t you think?”

She sighed. “That sounds right, but I--” Suddenly, her eyes went wide and she dropped her plate of appetisers. “Eek! Oh my goodness, help! Something is _attacking_ me!”

Looking down, I saw that a small sand crab had latched a claw onto Penelope’s foot. I bent down and gently removed it, placing it a short distance away on the beach. 

When I returned to Penelope. She actually smiled at me. “Estella, that was amazing! You _saved_ me!”

I gave her another wide smile. “Hey, you just survived being attacked by a vicious sand crab. Maybe you’re tougher than you think.”

Her smile faded. “Maybe. But I’m not going to win the Prince’s heart. I’m going to leave here a failure.”

I shook my head. “Hardly. You can still use your time here to your best advantage.”

“And what’s that?”

“By making allies.” I took a deep breath. “Help me get the court to see me favourably, and when I’m queen, I’ll remember that you were there for me.” It was the first time I’d asserted my intention to be Liam’s choice so boldly. 

Penelope considered for a moment, before nodding. “I suppose I could put in a good word for you here and there.”

“Thank you!”

She sighed again, looking down sadly at her sandy, crab-nibbled appetisers. “Now, if you’ll excuse me, I’m going to find some shade before any more crustaceans attempt to eat me.”

***

I moved to join Hana and Kiara by the drinks, helping myself to a celebratory glass of fruit punch. Hana greeted me with a smile, Kiara with a polite nod. 

Kiara lowered her voice. “Bien sûr today’s announcement puts Madeleine firmly in the lead.”

“She certainly has the advantage now," I said honestly.

Hana glanced around, her eyes lingering on Madeleine. “She’s barely left the Queen’s side today.

Kiara nodded. “It’s all going to depend on the events at Applewood.” She sighed. “But honestly? I’m not optimistic. I’m pursuing my options for joining the Cordonian foreign office.” She looked curiously between me and Hana. “What will you two do if you don’t win Prince Liam’s hand?”

Hana looked slightly anxious, brushing her hair out of her face as she answered. “I suppose my parents would try and find me another suitable match.” She swallowed sadly, and Kiara briefly placed a consoling hand on her arm.

I wasn’t sure what to say. I didn’t think _I’m going to win Liam’s hand or die trying_ was a socially appropriate answer. In all honesty, it was a question I’d repeatedly avoided asking myself since my arrival in Cordonia. I knew in my heart of hearts that I couldn’t go back to my old waitressing job, _even if I hadn’t been fired_. 

I sipped my drink. “I’d probably travel for a while.”

Kiara raised an eyebrow. “Très bohémienne.”

I shrugged. “It would be a change of pace after all this.”

She nodded. “On that we can agree. In many ways it will be a relief when Liam’s choice is made.”

I couldn’t agree. I was happy for the social season to continue for as long as possible. I’d felt more alive during this contest than I had at any other point in the last two years. It was an intoxicating combination of attraction to Liam, the thrill of a competition, and the opportunity to use my wits.

I smiled politely, and we moved the conversation back to King Constantine's announcement.   
  


***

As I headed to rejoin Maxwell and fill him in on my conversation with Penelope, I bumped into Liam. He smiled warmly. He was still wearing his shirt, but he’d abandoned his jumper. He was holding a glass garnished with mint.

“Estella, there you are!”

I felt the familiar flicker of excitement as our eyes met. “Looking for me?”

“Yes! I brought you a drink. It’s hot out, so I thought you’d like something refreshing.”

He handed me the glass and I took a long sip, savouring the taste of mint lemonade on my tongue. “Mmm, perfect. Tart and sugary.”

His smile widened. “Just like you.”

I raised a sceptical eyebrow. “I’m ‘tart’?”

He nodded. “In a way. You certainly have an interesting way of letting your opinions be known.”

“Hmm. Not hearing the compliment yet...”

“And you’re incredibly sweet?”

“ _That_ , I’ll accept. Now, I can’t believe you’d come all the way to see me just to give me a drink."

He took a step toward me, his eyes lingering over my chest for a moment. “What if I did? It’s all part of the royal service.”

I moved closer to him. “Oh really? What other services can I expect from the Crown Prince of Cordonia?”

Adorably, he turned slightly pink. “Well… to be honest, I was looking for you because I wanted to take you somewhere. I know of a special place called the Forgotten Falls. It’s a short hike from here, but it’s gorgeous.”

“Is it the next stop today?”

He shook his head. “Well, not for everyone. I used to go there often as a child. It’s a really special place to me. I don’t want to share it with just anyone. But it would mean a lot to me to share it with _you_.” He smiled at me hopefully. 

I smiled back, feeling a flutter of delight at his private invitation. “Liam, I’d _love_ to go to the Forgotten Falls with you.”

***

We discreetly slipped away, past the beach and through some brush. We made a short climb through the undergrowth, eventually arriving at a gorgeous waterfall. The water cascaded into a stunning blue pool, surrounded on all sides by lush, green foliage. 

“Here we are, the Forgotten Falls! Do you like it?”

“It’s amazing,” I said honestly. There was something both majestic and tranquil about the spot. The constant sound of rushing water was oddly hypnotising. 

“I knew you’d love it as much as I do. You know there’s an old legend about how this waterfall came to be.” 

“Will you tell me?” I perched on the side of the pool, dipping my hand into the cool water. 

He nodded. “It’s said that hundreds of years ago, there were two lovers from warring clans. They were forbidden from being together, but they would meet here, at this hidden spot, and make their plans to run away together.” 

“I have an ominous feeling this is going to end in tragedy.”

Liam gave a rueful smile. “Indeed. When the day came for them to leave, they vowed to meet here at dawn. When dawn came, the woman waited and waited, but her lover never appeared. They say that he was caught by her people and killed. She never had the heart to leave this spot. So she knelt on the cliffs and wept, and her tears became the waterfall.”

“That _is_ a sad story.”

Liam sat down next to me, gently running his thumb over my hand. “Tell me, Estella, what would you have done if you were the woman in the story?”

I chewed my lip thoughtfully. The question felt a bit like one of those magazine personality quizzes. “Hmm. Well, if _I_ were the woman in the story, I would’ve never let anyone hurt my lover in the first place."

Liam smiled. “You know what? I believe you. You’re one of the fiercest people I’ve ever met, Estella.”

I laughed. “Thanks, but I wasn’t planning on fighting them all in single combat. I’d have just been more cunning about the plan to run away. Maybe I'd attempt a more successful _Romeo and Juliet_ and fake my own death.”

Liam chuckled, lacing his fingers comfortably through mine. “You know, there is one silver lining to this depressing story.”

“Oh?”

“It’s said that if two lovers climb to the top of the waterfall and jump in together, they’ll get the blessing of the lady of the waterfall.”

I felt a pleasing shiver run through me. “Is this your way of telling me you think we should be lovers?”

For a moment he was lost for words. “I didn’t think… I mean, I wasn’t trying to…”

I leaned in closer to him. “So… you don’t ever think about it?”

“I didn’t say _that_. I’m only human, Estella.” His expression grew more playful. “Besides, would it be presumptuous of me to guess that _you’ve_ had similar thoughts?”

Before I could reply, he stood up and slowly pulled off his shirt. 

“I… er… I have thoughts.”

He turned to me with a grin. “Are you ready? It seems like you’re already dressed for the occasion. Now, we climb!”

My heart dropped. Climbing was definitely not my forte. “Up the cliff face?”

“There’s not exactly an elevator way out here. Are you up for it?”

 _C’mon, Estella, you can do this_. “I can make it, if you help me!”

Liam offered me his hand. “I’ll be with you every step of the way.”

  
  


***

With Liam’s help, we made it up to the top.

“We did it!” I was genuinely relieved, at one point I’d stumbled on some weeds, and Liam had basically had to catch me. _Romantic? Yes. Embarrassing? That too_. 

He looked at me earnestly. “I’m glad you trusted me to get you up here.”

“I’m starting to think I can trust you with anything.”

He smiled happily. “Ready to jump?”

I peered over the edge of the waterfall with an anxious lurch. “I didn’t realize how high up we are!”

He chuckled. “It’s better if you don’t think about that right now. Hold my hand.” I put my hand in his, and he held it tightly. “I think some would call this a leap of faith. On three? One… Two... Three!”

My heart pounding in my chest, we jumped. The exhilarating and _terrifying_ fall took my breath away. After we hit the cool, clear water, I kicked my way to the surface. 

“That was…”

“ _Amazing_.” I had no desire to _ever_ repeat the experience, but as a one-off activity it was worth the effort. I was glad to see Liam so happy. 

As we floated in the water together. He reached out and brushed his hand against mine. “Thank you.”

“For what?”

He looked at me adoringly. “For coming here with me. For actually getting to know me. For… For caring about me, Estella.” He moved a wet strand of hair out of my face. “I’ve never had anyone in my life like you.” He looked at me intently. “And now that I have you… I never want to lose you.”

My heart was beating fast in my chest. “Liam, will you kiss me?”

“Estella…”

“You can’t say all those romantic things to me and not expect to get kissed.”

He pulled me close, briefly pressing his lips to mine in a fervid kiss. Too quickly, he pulled away with a sigh. 

“What is it?"

“I’d be lying if I said I didn’t enjoy it. It’s just…”

“Just what?”

He looked at me earnestly. “I don’t know what’s going to happen, but the last thing I’d want is for you to get hurt.”

“Liam, it’s sweet that you worry about me. I know it means you care about me.” It meant an awful lot to me that he was so concerned about my feelings. That somehow, with everything that was going on in his life, he was still worried about _me_. 

“I do care, Estella. More than you know… and definitely more than I should.”

He looked down at me, taking my hands in his, his gaze intent. My heart was beating fast. My body still flooded with adrenaline from our leap. 

I closed the distance between us, and we met in another heated kiss. This time he didn't pull away, instead bringing me flush against him, before lowering me gently down onto the sand. Instinctively I wrapped my legs around him, and we moved against each other through our clothes. Liam's lips travelled from my mouth to my neck, and then lower, tracing the curve of my breast above my swimsuit. 

“Liam…”

“Estella…”

In the background the inevitable rushing of the waterfall seemed to reflect our increasing desire. I ran my fingers through his hair, lost in the sensation of his weight and warmth. I knew that we were perilously close to getting carried away.

When we breathlessly and reluctantly pulled apart, he rested his forehead on mine. His eyes dark with desire, desire and _something_ _else_. 

He looked at me intently, gently cradling my cheek with his hand. “I know that we haven’t known each other for very long, but every moment I spend with you, I can’t help but feel… Estella, I think I’m in lo--”

Suddenly, movement exploded from the bushes next to us. A startled bird shot off, a fox in hot pursuit. 

Silently cursing both bird and fox, I turned back to Liam hopefully. “Er, you were saying?” But I already knew that the moment had passed.

“Never mind. It was nothing.” He shook his head and gave me a regretful smile. “I suppose we should head back."

I nodded. “Yeah. We’ve been gone long enough that people will be starting to look for us." I felt myself blushing. "It would have been a little awkward if Bastien had walked in on us."

Liam gently helped me to my feet. “No matter how much time we have together, it’s just never enough, is it?”

“Not by a long shot.”

As we made our way back, I was so excited that I could have burst into song. I was positive he'd nearly told me that he loved me. _Liam loves me,_ I thought joyfully. _The Prince is in love with me!_

***

By the time we reached the beach, the sun had set. I wondered how many people had noticed our absence. _I didn't really care._ I was too excited about the progress in our relationship.

We lingered a distance from the party, still fully absorbed in each other's company. 

“I had a good time, Estella. I find myself reluctant to leave you.”

“Maybe we can just take a _little_ while longer.”

I took his hand, smiling up at him, but we both tensed when we heard Liam’s name being called.

“Liam? There you are!"

I quickly moved my hand away as King Constantine approached us, dropping into a polite curtsy.

Liam's eyes widened in surprise. “Father. You’re on the beach!”

Constantine waved his hand dismissively. “I have been known to leave the palace to grace our shores from time to time.” He turned to me with a polite smile, but his expression was tense. "Lady Estella, please pardon us, but I’d like to have a moment alone with my son.”

“Of course, Your Majesty.”

Liam gave me a subtle smile. “I’ll find you soon, Lady Estella.”

I remembered that Liam hadn't been aware of his father's imminent retirement. _Clearly House Rys keeps as many secrets as House Beaumont._

***

When I climbed into the limo to return to the Palace. I was surprised to find it occupied by both Maxwell _and_ Bertrand. 

“Look who finally made it," said Maxwell with a grin.

“I’m sure my absence was absolutely heart-wrenching for you.” _Hmm,_ I gave him points for that comment. It was almost witty. 

I examined the Duke curiously. “Aren’t you sad you missed out, Your Grace?”

He immediately frowned. “Roasting in the sun while watching little boats go by is hardly what I’d consider stimulating. In fact, I wouldn’t even be here right now if _everything_ hadn’t changed with King Constantine’s announcement.” 

“I can handle it all,” said Maxwell unconvincingly. “ _Probably…_ ” 

Bertrand shook his head. “From now on, I’ll be keeping a closer eye on Estella, even if it means neglecting our estate. So clear your calendars. We need to intensify our preparations for the events at Applewood.”

Maxwell’s face fell. “Can’t we at least take tonight off? It’s been a long day. We all deserve some rest!”

Bertrand glared at his brother. “You can rest when Estella is crowned Queen of Cordonia… and from where we’re standing, that’s not going to be anytime soon.” 

I bit back the urge to tell Bertrand that I had _every_ intention of being crowned Queen. 

Maxwell shrunk back into his seat dejectedly. “Right, sorry. What I meant was, I _want_ to stay up all night to train and prepare Estella for the next event!”

Bertrand nodded. “I’m glad we’re all in agreement. Now, Lady Estella, tonight we resume preparations for the Apple Blossom Festival.”

***

Back at the Palace, Bertrand gave us an hour to change, then requested we all meet in his room. By the time I’d showered and changed into jeans and a tank top, I was extremely tired. I rubbed some lotion into my red skin. I’d applied that sunscreen too late. I’d definitely caught the sun. 

Even though I felt tired, sunburnt, and weary from the climb up the Forgotten Falls, I was in high spirits. A lot had changed in the competition. The stakes were undeniably higher, but I was confident that Liam had almost told me he _loved_ me. If I had Liam’s love, at least half of the battle was already won. Now I just needed to win over the Queen and King. It wasn’t going to be easy, but it didn’t feel impossible either. What I needed right then though was _sleep_ , not a dour faced Duke Despair. 

When Bertrand showed me into his room, his expression was predictably sour. He didn’t look good. His eyes were still bloodshot, lined with heavy, dark circles. Something told me he wasn’t sleeping much. 

He raised a critical eyebrow as he examined my face. “You look like you caught the sun. Perhaps it is fortunate there are no scheduled events for a few weeks.”

I rolled my eyes, sinking into a chair. “Well, you look like you could do with some sun. Where were you today?”

“Dealing with the latest crisis in House Beaumont.”

“Very mysterious.” 

He sighed, sinking wearily into a chair. 

I examined him curiously. “Are you going to tell me what he’s done?”

“What _who_ has done?”

“ _Maxwell_. It’s obvious there’s even more tension between you than usual.”

“It’s not something I am prepared to discuss," he said curtly.

“Fine.”

We sat in unfriendly silence, both scrolling through our phones as we waited for Maxwell to arrive. King Constantine’s announcement dominated coverage of the Regatta, so there wasn’t the usual level of scrutiny of the Prince’s suitors or our fashion choices.

At last Bertrand broke the tense silence. “Everything I say to him goes in one ear and out the other.”

I looked up at him, but he didn't meet my eyes. He was gazing blankly at the coffee table.

“Is Maxwell in some kind of trouble?”

He finally met my gaze. “Only if you regard hastening me into an early grave as trouble.”

“I see.” I didn’t see. I hadn’t been provided with nearly enough information to see anything. “Don't take this the wrong way, _Your_ _Grace_ , but you seem tired.”

“As I’m sure it is perfectly apparent, I am exhausted.”

“So maybe now _isn't_ the ideal time to stay up all night and ruin our sleep patterns? We have two weeks until the court moves to Applewood. I can meet you tomorrow.”

He shook his head. “Do I need to remind you that we are no longer playing for the role of Princess? If you marry Liam, you will be _Queen_. The stakes are higher than ever. We _must_ succeed.” He sounded slightly overwrought. I was _almost_ beginning to worry about him. 

“I am well aware of that fact, but I don’t think you turning into a nocturnal bat creature is going to help matters.” I glanced at the time. “Besides, Maxwell is already twenty minutes late. I don’t think he’s coming.”

Bertrand glared at his door as if imagining it was Maxwell. “We should at least go through the Great Houses. I doubt you've touched your notes.”

I rolled my eyes and began to recite. “House Ebrim, the Duchy of Portavira, Duchess Emmeline and Duke Landon, heir Penelope Ebrim..."

“Hmm.”

“I read my damn notes.” I stood up. “Get some rest, _Your Grace._ All of this stress is just going to make you ill. Don't worry, I'll see you in the morning bright and early for _Queen_ school.”

“Very well.”

I’d reached the door when he coughed meaningfully. “Would I be correct in my assumption that King Liam remains fond of you?”

I managed to suppress a smirk, thinking happily back to the Forgotten Falls. “I think that is a reasonable assumption to make.”

He nodded. “Good. Then in the next two weeks we should also cement your knowledge of Cordonia. I think it’s time you visited the Cordonian National Museum, as well as the other major sites. I’ll make the arrangements for us to go."

“I’m sure you can leave that one to Maxwell,” I said quickly. I did _not_ want to tour Cordonia’s major sites with Bertrand. _Maybe Hana would go with me?_

He raised his formidable eyebrows, clearly reading my mind. “I am no more desirous for your company than you are for mine. But before you make your decision, I feel it best to inform you that Maxwell confuses the artist Michelangelo with a cartoon tortoise.”

I grimaced. “ _Turtle_ , but yes, I take your point. Maybe it’s best if you give the tour.”

“Clear your diary for Saturday.” 

_Oh hooray_.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Too much Beaumont brother angst? Probably...
> 
> Song lyrics at the start of this chapter are from Love Story by Taylor Swift.


	10. Interlude (Before Applewood)

_So you say I'm complicated_

_That I must be out my mind_

_But you've had me underrated_

I barely saw Liam in the days following Constantine’s announcement at the Regatta. He moved from meeting to meeting, always accompanied by his father or Queen Regina. Drake told us over drinks that Liam was receiving intensive instruction on the expectations he would face as Cordonia’s King. I just had to hope that his feelings for me would triumph over Queen Regina’s obvious preference for Madeleine. 

It quickly became common knowledge amongst the other suitors that Olivia had resorted to waiting around outside the meeting rooms so that she could ‘accidentally’ bump into Liam. 

I watched her with raised eyebrows as I walked past her prowling backward and forward in a deserted corridor. “Don’t you have anything better to do?”

She glared at me. “We’re all here for Liam, and I’m miles away from my duchy. What else should I be doing?”

“Something more interesting than staring at a door?”

She rolled her eyes dismissively. “What are _you_ doing that’s so important anyway?”

I held up the bag I was carrying. “I’ve been looking for something to wear for the opening event at Applewood. I’m guessing we’ll be surrounded by the press.”

Olivia snorted. “I decided what I was going to wear _weeks_ ago. It’s guaranteed to put whatever thrift-shop, yarn-bombed monstrosity you’ll throw together to shame.” She glanced back at the door, a hint of vulnerability creeping into her voice. “Do you think Madeleine is in there with them?”

I’d repeatedly wondered the same thing myself. “I certainly wouldn’t put it past her to find a reason to ingratiate herself into proceedings.”

Olivia nodded grimly. “You know it’s down to _you_ , me or _her_ now, right?” She wrinkled her nose in disgust as she examined me. “Though how you’ve come this far is a mystery to me.”

“Well, why don’t you try and puzzle it out while you lurk outside a closed door?”

I walked off, feeling her glare burning into my back. 

***

At the weekend, Bertrand and I made our trip into the capital. It had taken me a while to figure out what to wear for our little excursion. I was tempted to wear something extremely casual just to irritate him, like ripped jeans and a slogan crop top, but in the end I settled on a smart navy dress and pumps. To be honest, I didn’t actually own ripped jeans or a slogan crop top. 

Maxwell looked extremely relieved to have escaped the trip when he waved us off. The atmosphere between the brothers remained tense, though neither was willing to discuss why. 

Bertrand and I spent the journey staring at our phones, avoiding saying a word to each other. We’d barely been in the limo five minutes before my phone vibrated with a message from Maxwell. 

**Maxwell** : Have fun bonding!

 **Estella:** I hope you know that I hate you. 

**Maxwell** : ☹️

To my surprise, our first destination wasn’t a tourist attraction but a fancy restaurant with an alarming amount of cutlery on the tables. 

“I thought you were working to a budget?” I whispered curiously as we waited to be seated. 

“This is a vital part of your education.”

“Of course…”

A smiling waitress led us to a quiet table in the corner. It was situated by a large window overlooking a quiet and picturesque street. If I wasn’t with Bertrand I’d have taken some pictures for Pictagram. 

The first surprise of the day was that Bertrand was perfectly friendly with the waitress, making polite small talk as she discussed the menu and smiling when she delivered our drinks. 

As we perused our menus, I raised a quizzical eyebrow at him. “So you _can_ be polite to waitresses?” I’d expected him to be condescending and aloof.

He glanced at me over his menu. “I have absolutely nothing against waitresses.”

“You could have fooled me.” I surreptitiously glanced around to check that we wouldn’t be overheard. Screwing up my face like a possessed Cabbage Patch Doll, I quietly imitated his exaggerated outburst the night we met. “ _A Waitress? You brought a waaaitress?_ ”

He glared at me. “Please refrain from public silliness.”

“ _Fine_. But I thought you hated everybody, especially commoners. I thought you were far too illustrious to associate with normal people.”

“I am perfectly willing to associate with commoners.”

“As long as you don’t have to speak to them?” 

He put his menu down in frustration. “You are wilfully misunderstanding me. My appalled reaction to your former profession wasn’t because I have a bizarre personal vendetta against waitresses. It was because you apparently lacked any of the skills or knowledge required for this contest.” 

“Apparently?”

“Indeed. I have to admit that so far you have exceeded my low expectations.”

“I presume you expected me to high five the King and invite the Queen to join me for cosmopolitans?”

The waitress returned, pouring out the wine. I swirled mine in my glass before taking a sip. 

Bertrand looked at me seriously. “How would you describe the wine?”

I chose a deliberately annoying answer. “It’s pretty good.”

He gave an exasperated sigh, taking a long sip of his own wine. “That might have passed for a reaction in a dive bar in New York, but in the royal court, you’d be laughed out of the room!”

I took another sip. “Okay, how about… the mouthfeel of this cabernet is velvety and full bodied, with rich jammy stone-fruit flavours and chocolatey undertones. It’s an assertive and bold wine.”

He narrowed his eyes. “You could have just said that initially.”

“Hmm, I suppose I could.”

I took another sip of the wine, examining him curiously. “Enlighten me, _Your_ _Grace_. Given how important this contest clearly is to you, why didn’t House Beaumont already have a suitable candidate for the social season?”

A hint of embarrassment crept over his features. “I did interview several potential candidates…”

“But?”

“None of them met the high standards required.”

I repressed a smirk. “You scared them all off didn’t you?”

“I…” He sighed, removing a stray thread from his jacket. “I suppose I may have been somewhat overzealous in my criticisms.”

“You astound me.”

The friendly waitress delivered our first course. Bertrand’s eyes widened in horror as I reached for what I presumed was the correct cutlery. 

“ _This_ is exactly why we are here! Please tell me you were not about to use those utensils.” 

I sighed. “I thought you started at the outside and worked your way in.”

He groaned quietly. “It is that sort of simplistic understanding of cutlery that leads to etiquette disasters. Imagine if you offended Queen Regina by eating melon with a grapefruit spoon!”

“Just imagine… Okay, which spoon should I have used?”

***

When dessert arrived, Bertrand finally concluded his cutlery seminar, and apparently that was the extremely abridged version. 

He moved to a new topic of conversation. “Did you read those history books from the library?” I could tell from the tone of his question that he was expecting the answer to be a definitive no.

“Yes.”

“How much?” He asked curiously.

“I’ve finished them both.”

He was obviously surprised. “You finished both volumes of Harrow's _History of Cordonia_?”

“You don’t need to sound quite so surprised. What do you think that I do in my evenings? Cry over pictures of Liam?”

“I assume that you prepare for the forthcoming events.”

I took a bite of my chocolate soufflé. “I assume that _you've_ read both volumes?"

He nodded. “My father ensured I had read them before I was twelve.”

“That’s slightly intense... Did you study history at college?”

He shook his head. “I studied Land Economy at Cambridge.” I figured that made a certain amount of sense. My money had been on history at Oxford. “Cambridge is in England,” he added unnecessarily. 

“Yes… I am aware. Did Maxwell go to Cambridge?”

“No. He studied creative writing at the University of Cordonia.”

“Wait, Maxwell studied _creative_ _writing_?” That was the second surprise of the day. 

***

After lunch Bertrand led me on a tour of the major landmarks of the capital. I was familiar with them from my reading, but it was undeniably more exciting to finally see the locations in person. 

Cordonia really was beautiful. I stood by my first impression. It was like something out of a fairy tale. The magnificent marble civic buildings shone in the sunlight. Numerous tourists milled around taking photographs and posing by the grand sparkling fountains in the squares. I made a mental note to revisit with Hana so that we could explore the little cafés and shops.

We finished the tour in the spectacular Cordonian National Gallery. I listened patiently to Bertrand’s long-winded introduction to Cordonian art, trying hard not to laugh when he simplistically explained words like _perspective_ and _Impressionism_ , as if I was a small child attempting to lick the paintings. 

I knew very little about Cordonian artists. My Master's thesis had been on the Italian Renaissance, and Cordonia hadn’t really featured in my research. It was genuinely fascinating to read the explanatory panels and exhibition text. I relished being back in the calm of a quiet gallery. It was something I’d avoided since my parents had died, and now that I was back, I realised just how much I’d missed it. 

I turned away from a still life to find Bertrand watching me curiously. “You actually seem to be taking an interest in this. I must confess that I’m surprised.”

I sighed. “First you’re surprised that I read books, now you’re surprised that I like art. What do you think I’m interested in? Monster trucks and roadkill?" I crossed my arms huffily. "We do have galleries in New York." 

He raised an eyebrow. “I am well aware of that fact. I just assumed that, as someone with limited higher education, you might not find this environment particularly engaging.”

Before I could indignantly reply, a grey-haired woman in a floral dress made a beeline for me. 

“Estella!”

It took me a moment to recognise her, because I was so thrown by the context. For some reason, seeing someone I knew from my old life in Cordonia was jarring. 

“Sylvia! What are you doing in Cordonia?”

She smiled warmly at me. “I could ask you the same question! I’m guest lecturing at a conference on D’Ambrogio.” _Of_ _course_. I’d forgotten that D’Ambrogio once had a studio in Cordonia. 

“That’s exciting,” I said honestly. If I’d known about her talk I’d have made the effort to attend. “None of his paintings from his years in Cordonia exist, right? They were all destroyed in a fire?”

“I believe one survives at the Royal Palace.” She smiled wistfully. “Unfortunately I doubt any of us will ever gain access to see that.”

“Ahh,” I said awkwardly. “Tricky.”

Sylvia turned to Bertrand with a smile. “Estella, you should introduce me to your companion.” I could tell from her expression that she was clearly trying to work out if we were a couple. I somehow managed not to laugh.

“Apologies, Sylvia, this is my…” I wondered what the hell I should say. House Sponsor would sound extremely strange, unless Sylvia had been following the Cordonian news, and we definitely weren’t friends. Business partner? Nope, that was super creepy when the only ‘business’ we were involved in was trying to marry me off for his financial benefit. The Duke of Ramsford? That would just raise more questions. I settled on the least bad option. “My Friend… Bertrand.” I blushed, fully aware that my hesitation had only made it sound like we definitely _were_ a couple. "Bertrand Beaumont, this is Professor Sylvia Cleaves."

Bertrand’s mouth quirked very slightly. He was clearly finding my discomfort amusing. “It is a pleasure to meet you,” he said politely to Sylvia. “I am an admirer of your work on D’Ambrogio." He looked between Sylvia and I quizzically, clearly unable to imagine any possible connection. “How do you two know each other?” He asked curiously.

Sylvia smiled. "Oh, I lectured Estella at Harvard. She was one of my favourites, not that I should have favourites."

It was my turn to try not to laugh as Bertrand’s eyebrows flew up towards his hairline. His eyes momentarily widened in astonishment before he recovered himself. “Indeed.”

Sylvia didn’t seem to notice his reaction. She’d already turned back to me with a fond smile. “So, Estella, what brings you to Cordonia? It can't just be the wonders of the National Gallery.”

"Oh, I'm actually --” Fortunately Sylvia's phone rang before I had to explain that I was competing to be the country’s next queen. 

“Ahh, that’s my cue to go and speak.” She smiled at us. “You’re extremely welcome to come and hear the talk if you’d like?”

"It would be our pleasure,” said Bertrand immediately. I shot a curious glance at him, but he was carefully avoiding my gaze.

“Excellent!”

***

As we took seats in the busy lecture hall, Bertrand turned to me with furrowed brows. "You could have mentioned that you studied at Harvard."

I settled into my seat, ensuring that my phone was on silent. "Why? Because you'd have been a bit nicer to me? _No_ _thanks_."

“So you have a Harvard degree in Art History?"

"And a Master’s."

He leaned back in his chair with a frown. “Why do you insist on misleading me about your abilities?”

I shrugged. “I was never here for _your_ approval. It’s Liam I’m trying to impress.” I casually applied some lip balm. “Besides, you decided to hate me when we first met. I wasn’t going to read you my resume in an attempt to change your opinion.”

His grey eyes remained fixed on me. "But when Maxwell found you, you were a waitress?"

"Yes."

"But _why_?" He sounded utterly perplexed.

"Well, _Your_ _Grace_ , if we ever become friends, maybe I'll tell you."

He raised an eyebrow. "It's important that you don't keep secrets. We need to trust each other."

I laughed incredulously. “That’s ironic, given that I know virtually _nothing_ about you, or Maxwell.”

“I am genuinely curious about how me or Maxwell could possibly be of interest to you.”

“Well, I’m representing your house. It would be nice to know a bit more about you.”

"What is there to know?"

The lights went out so I lowered my voice to a whisper. "Well, I've been reading up on the Cordonian Great Houses. I know how important strategic alliances are. So, why aren't you married?” I smirked at him. “You must be at least forty." I didn’t think he was actually that old. I was just trying to be antagonistic. 

His frown returned as he lowered his voice to a whisper. "I'm thirty-five, and why I’m unmarried is absolutely no concern of yours."

"Well, why I was a waitress isn't your concern."

We sat and listened to the lecture in silence. It was genuinely interesting. Sylvia was always an engaging speaker. Occasionally I shot glances at Bertrand. He seemed to be completely absorbed. His eyes fixed intently on the presentation.

***

After the talk I exchanged email addresses with Sylvia, promising to catch up with her over coffee before either of us left Cordonia. 

“You know," she said with a conspiratorial wink, "your _friend_ is very handsome.”

 _Ughh_. I refused to even consider the possibility of being attracted to a man in a sweater vest. Well, at least not Bertrand anyway. Maybe Liam could make a sweater vest appealing.

On our way back to the Palace in the limo, Bertrand and I initially sat in stubborn silence. Eventually, he was the first to speak. 

“If you really must know, I am unmarried because weddings are costly affairs. And on top of that, any prospective suitors would scrutinize my finances. So while we’re facing ruin, it’s simply not an option.” 

"Can't you marry someone rich?" I asked curiously. "I'm guessing marrying into a Great House carries a certain amount of kudos?"

He shook his head wearily. "I would still need to disclose my financial situation, and that would risk word getting out. House Beaumont's survival depends upon the continuing illusion that nothing is amiss. That will buy me the time to reverse our fortunes."

"So you push people away?”

He met my eyes. "I suppose that is one way of looking at it.”

“Hmm.” I sighed. I knew it was my turn for some honesty in return. “When Maxwell found me, I was a waitress, because I struggled with working out what to do with my life after my parents died. That’s part of the reason why I was so willing to drop everything and travel to Cordonia. Liam seemed worth taking a chance on.”

He didn’t say anything in response. He just nodded thoughtfully. 

We sank back into silence. I checked my phone for messages. 

**Maxwell** : Hi! Have you killed each other???

 **Maxwell** : Estellaaaaa. I’m worried. Are you alive?

 **Maxwell** : HAS HE MURDERED YOU OVER SPOONS?!

Bertrand broke the silence again. “Lady Estella…” 

"Yes?”

“I know that we got off on the wrong foot initially."

I raised an eyebrow. “Don't you mean that you were unforgivably rude?”

He ignored my question. "What I am trying to say, is that we are on the same side. I presume that you genuinely want to marry Prince Liam?"

I nodded. "Absolutely."

"Then I will do everything in my power to ensure that we both achieve our goals. All I ask is that we cooperate."

“Then let's make sure I’m the next Queen of Cordonia.” I met his eyes. “I’m going to win the crown for House Beaumont or die trying. I won’t let anyone else get in my way.” I thought I was _probably_ joking. 

Instead of looking alarmed, he actually smiled. “Excellent. Maybe Maxwell _did_ pick the right woman for the job after all.”

“I think that’s the first nice thing you’ve said about me, Bertrand.”

“Yes, yes, write it down so you can look at it fondly and remember it later.”

“I’ll embroider it on a cushion and keep it on my bed.”

He quirked an eyebrow, but the hint of a smile still played around his lips. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Next chapter it's Applewood time. 🍎
> 
> I've borrowed some bits from the Royal Masquerade for this chapter, as well as some shameless dialogue snippet theft from Pride and Prejudice. 
> 
> Song lyrics at the start of this chapter are from Confident by Demi Lovato.


	11. The Apple of His Eye

_We’re supposed to all be ladies_

_And be nurturing and care_

_Is that really fair?_

_Boys get to fight, we have to share_

_Here’s the way that turns out_

_We always understand_

_How to slap someone down_

_With our underhand_

“I hate to be an obnoxious cliché, but are we there yet?” Glancing out of the window, it was obvious that we were now deep in the Cordonian countryside. The limo was sailing past green fields and lines of gnarled trees. 

Maxwell grinned. “Almost, Estella. Believe me, I’m as excited as you to get out of this car, especially since we’re going to Applewood!”

I shook my head. “Everything in Cordonia has been so grand, but that name is so quaint.”

“It’s decidedly appropriate,” said Bertrand firmly. “Applewood borders the largest apple orchard in the entire kingdom, and that’s where they first cultivated Cordonia’s most famous apple varietal --”

It was impossible to resist aggravating him. “The Granny Smith, right?” I asked innocently.

Bertrand responded predictably to the bait. “As if we’d ever cultivate something so common.”

I widened my eyes in feigned surprise. “But I figured someone as sour as you would like Granny Smith apples, Bertrand.” I momentarily caught Maxwell’s eye and he chuckled.

Bertrand glared at me. “I find you two as unamusing as ever.”

“So tell me, how does the Cordonian Ruby actually taste?”

He raised a weary eyebrow. “So you _have_ been paying attention. The Cordonian Ruby is a red varietal that’s pleasantly crisp with an intense flavor that has notes of honeyed caramel.”

I met his eyes with a smirk. “You know, that’s probably the most poetic thing you’ve ever said.”

“Certain subjects call for a little poetry.”

It was my turn to raise an eyebrow. “Like _apples_ , obviously.”

“Precisely. Now, let us review your role in earnest. The other ladies are only going to get more competitive, so you need to be ready. We’re running out of time after all. There’s only about a month and a half before the Coronation Ball at the end of the season.” 

“It’s gone so quickly,” I said thoughtfully. _Too_ _quickly_ , I thought wistfully.

“Time flies when you’re jet-setting around Cordonia,” said Maxwell cheerfully. 

“So, my most important objective for today?”

Maxwell smiled. “No time to play coy. Spend as much time with Liam as possible.”

“But, if you can’t do that, try not to get into trouble,” said Bertrand seriously. “You, Duchess Olivia, and Countess Madeleine remain the frontrunners. Now that time is running out, they’re both going to try to undermine you.”

I nodded. “Olivia’s been trying since the beginning, but I’ve stood my ground. Madeleine plays her cards much closer to her chest.”

"Indeed,” agreed Bertrand. “As you know, her family is extremely powerful, and she’s grown up immersed in the intrigues of courtly life. _Do_ _not_ _underestimate_ _her_. She’s used to winning.”

“Plus she’s been through all this before,” Maxwell added. “Just don’t give her anything she could use against you.”

“You won’t be able to avoid either lady in public, but try your best to keep your cool and be diplomatic, especially when the press is around," said Bertrand. He gave me a look that was bordering on respectful. “You’ve done remarkably well so far, but there’s still room to fail.”

“Can never end on a high note, can you?”

As he shrugged, the limo made a turn and began to slow down. 

“We’re here!” Maxwell announced excitedly. 

***

Applewood Manor was a stone building, obviously older than the Palace, and, although not as ostentatiously grand, it was no less beautiful. It stood amidst manicured gardens, beyond which extensive apple orchards were visible. In the distance there was nothing but vibrant fields of grass and rows of ancient trees. The air was fresh, and there was a pleasant breeze. 

“What do you think?” Maxwell asked.

“It’s beautiful. I could get used to this.”

He grinned. “Well, we’re here for a few weeks.” He lowered his voice. “You know, if you marry Liam, this would be your holiday home.”

I swallowed. “There’s a thought.” 

Maxwell grabbed my bags from the limo, and we made our way down the long driveway leading to the manor. “We should settle in quickly. We haven’t got that long until the first event of the Festival.”

“Remember, we Cordonians take our traditions _very_ seriously," said Bertrand. "Be sure to show enthusiasm for all of the events. And make sure that whatever you wear today isn’t too flashy. Just something that says you’re relatable and quaint.”

“Don’t worry," I replied calmly. "I’ve got that under control.”

Once I was in my allocated room, I quickly unpacked and changed. I'd decided to wear a pretty, floral dress with on-trend ruffles.

When I headed out to the Festival, I noticed that my bedroom door didn’t have a lock. I didn’t think much of it. I figured it was probably due to Applewood being an older building. There were plenty of King's Guard around so it felt perfectly safe.

***

In the apple orchard Maxwell escorted me past the crowds of people and press who eagerly awaited the beginning of the Apple Blossom Festival.

All of the ladies vying for Liam’s hand were standing in a loose semicircle under the shade of a large apple tree. I joined them, reluctantly squeezing into the only empty space, between Olivia and Madeleine. 

“Shouldn’t you be in the back somewhere with Drake and the other commoners?” Olivia asked tersely. 

“Shh,” hissed Madeleine as the King and Queen appeared. “It’s starting.”

The event seemed to consist solely of a glorified photo opportunity, with the suitors sampling Cordonian Rubies from the first crop of the season. 

The apple that I was handed looked beautiful. It was a shade of deep red that lived up to its name, but I knew the instant Olivia whispered “I can’t wait for you to try it” that it was going to taste terrible, _and_ _it_ _did_. Still, I smiled for the flashing cameras as I swallowed a mouthful of the nauseatingly bitter apple, cursing both Beaumont brothers for not giving me a heads-up. 

Donnie Brine from CBC smiled at me. “It looks like you enjoyed the Cordonian Ruby, Lady Estella?”

I gave him my most charming smile. “It certainly has character.” 

The King cleared his throat, calling everyone to attention. “It looks like the ladies enjoyed their apples. I’d like to extend a special thanks to our apple growers and farmers for preserving our noble tradition.”

Next to him Queen Regina beamed. “And with that, happy Apple Blossom Festival!”

As the crowd cheered, people started to disperse into the orchard to pick apples. I was about to join them, but the reporters rushed forward, forming a deliberate circle around me, Olivia and Madeleine. 

“Would it be alright with you ladies if we asked a few questions?” Donnie asked eagerly. 

Madeleine immediately took a confident step forward. “Of course! Fydelia has always generously supported the CBC. I look forward to your favourable report.”

Olivia edged forward too, making eye contact with Ana De Luca. “And I haven't forgotten the amazing article about the Nevrakis family history in _Trend_ several years back.”

Ana nodded. “Your family has always been as fashionable as it is noble.”

I deliberately remained where I stood. “Well, Mr Brine, Ms De Luca, I don’t have a history with the CBC or _Trend_ , But I can promise you a compelling story. The Prince and I are close. I’ve seen a side of him that he doesn’t often show in public. Wouldn’t you want to hear about that?”

Ana smiled, obviously intrigued. “ _Trend_ would be interested in your insights as someone on the inside.” 

I flashed her a warm smile. “Thank you.”

Madeleine glanced at me. “Lady Estella makes an excellent point, and I’d like to remind everyone that we all have a relationship with the Prince that could provide a unique spin.”

“Yes,” said Olivia quickly. “I’ve been Liam’s friend since childhood.”

Madeleine nodded. “And I myself am close to the Prince and have the pleasure of calling the Queen my friend. Now, any other questions?”

It was Donnie’s turn. “At this stage, who do you think the Prince will choose?”

I answered before either of the others could. I didn’t want to give Madeleine the opportunity to dominate proceedings. “The Prince will choose whoever will make the best queen. He is loyal and dedicated. He’ll do what’s best for his country and people.” 

Ana smirked slightly. “But I presume you’re still wishing it’ll be you?”

I nodded earnestly. “With everything in me. But I know Prince Liam will do what’s right, and I’m trying to be worthy of being his choice.”

“Can I quote you on that?”

“Of course.”

“Very well-put, Lady Estella,” said Madeleine quickly. “I know I find the Prince’s devotion to cause and country inspiring.”

Ana nodded, typing up some notes. “As do we all, Lady Madeleine. Thank you ladies. Now, let me borrow Lady Estella for a moment.”

Anna pulled me aside, and I gave her some quotes about my relationship with Liam. I was careful not to reveal anything that Liam wouldn't want made public, instead concentrating on the story of how we met. Ana seemed to be satisfied. I was conscious of Maxwell and Bertrand watching me intently from the shade of a nearby tree. 

“That’s it for questions," Ana said at last. "Thank you, Lady Estella. Your answers were quite interesting.”

“You’re welcome.” My face was starting to ache from all of the smiling. 

The reporters walked off. Olivia openly glared at me. Next to her, Madeleine considered me thoughtfully.

“That was informative, Lady Estella. You answered with such grace and poise.”

“Thank you,” I said warily. I knew full well that Madeleine had been observing my interactions with the press, seeking any weaknesses she could exploit.

She smiled coolly. “It was rather enviable. I only hope you can keep it up without any _mishaps_. Some women just can’t handle the pressure.”

“That’s very kind of you, Madeleine,” I said with a saccharine smile. “It’s helpful to receive advice from a serial suitor."

Olivia clearly felt left out, because she glared fiercely at us both. “If either of you think that you’ve won, you’ve got another thing coming.”

Madeleine smiled. “Oh, Olivia, dear… I think we all know where we stand. Now, may the best woman win.” With that, she strutted off toward the orchards. 

With a final glare, Olivia departed in the opposite direction.

***

I joined Bertrand and Maxwell on the sidelines. To my surprise, Bertrand actually looked _impressed_. 

“You did well up there with the press. Madeleine didn’t shake you.”

"Thanks." I sighed. "You’re right though, she’s the one to watch. She knows exactly how to spin everything positively for herself, and she doesn’t miss anything.”

Bertrand still looked uncharacteristically optimistic. “Still, this gives me hope. You can clearly deflect her attempts to undermine you.”

I raised an eyebrow at him. “Also, thanks for not giving me a warning about the apple. You said it’d taste like caramel.” 

He rolled his eyes. “I said it had an ‘intense flavor’. Besides, If you can’t handle something as simple as a sour apple, I shudder to think how you’ll crumble when presented with a real challenge.” I knew from his tone that he wasn't being _entirely_ serious. 

I glanced between the brothers. “Anyway, what happens now?”

“Right now, I suggest you two go down this path and enjoy a stroll through the royal gardens," Bertrand replied. "I have it on good authority that the Prince is there now.” He glanced away from us. “I’ll catch up with you later.” 

“Come on, Estella.” Maxwell said cheerfully. “The gardens are lovely.”

“Just let me go and grab my bag.”

***

As Maxwell and I made our way toward the gardens, we heard Bertrand’s voice. He sounded extremely agitated. I hadn’t heard him _that_ riled up since the night he'd met me. He was standing away from the path near some trees, a familiar figure by his side. 

“Hold on, Maxwell. Is that Bertrand talking to Ana from _Trend_?”

We both stopped, stepping closer so that we could hear their conversation more clearly. 

“Ana, you’re being unreasonable.”

“Not the way I see it.”

“And you will not reconsider this matter?”

“Absolutely not.”

Bertrand turned and stormed off. He clearly didn’t see me and Maxwell. He looked entirely absorbed in his own thoughts. 

I leaned in to whisper to Maxwell. “Do you have any idea what’s going on?”

He shook his head. “Not really. Bertrand doesn’t let me get involved with House Beaumont stuff. He thinks I’d just screw it up.”

“That’s not fair, Maxwell.” 

Maxwell's face fell. “I kind of see his point. I am kind of a screw-up.”

I looked at him seriously. “You shouldn't say things like that, Maxwell. You're as much a member of House Beaumont as Bertrand is."

Maxwell watched Ana thoughtfully. “It does look like things didn’t go well. Maybe I could help…” He swallowed anxiously. “You think we should talk to her?”

“I think we should do it. He’s your brother. I know you want to help him if you can.” I gave him an encouraging smile. “And I want to assist you like a good honorary Beaumont."

Maxwell smiled gratefully. “Thanks for coming with me, Estella. I hate awkward situations.”

As we approached Ana she examined us curiously. “Lady Estella, what a surprise. Did you want to add to your earlier comments?”

I shook my head. “Actually, Ms De Luca, Maxwell and I wanted to see if you'd be willing to share some information with us.”

She tilted her head with a small smile. “Straight to the point. I like that. First off, if we’re talking off the record, just call me Ana.”

I nodded. “Okay, Ana. I wanted to ask, what were you and Bertrand arguing about?”

She straightened her shoulders. “Bertrand’s always been _very_ concerned with how the world sees him and his house. Let’s just say that my view of what’s currently going on didn’t exactly match with the image he wants the world to see.” She glanced meaningfully at Maxwell. “You’d have to be blind to not notice the decline in House Beaumont, and what happens to the Beaumont House is Cordonian news.” 

“We’re not really that important,” said Maxwell quietly.

Ana shook her head. “Bertrand _made_ House Beaumont important. He catapulted your family name into the spotlight. Good or bad, Cordonia wants to know what’s happening with you..." She paused to adjust her large sunglasses. "I happen to think that Cordonia deserves the truth. But Bertrand doesn’t see it that way. He was furious.”

“I think that's just his way," I said quickly. "I’m not sure that Bertrand knows _how_ to smile, even on a good day.” 

Ana laughed. “You should’ve seen him back in the day.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?” I asked curiously.

She glanced at Maxwell with a smirk. “She doesn’t know does she?”

“Know what?” I asked in confusion. Next to me, Maxwell shook his head. 

“At one point, House Beaumont was _the_ house to impress if you wanted to go to the most exclusive functions or be seen with the right people," Ana explained. "The famous, rich, and fabulous all flocked to Bertrand... Believe it or not, Bertrand was the life and soul of the party, and it was usually _his_ party. I don’t think there was a day of the week when he didn’t have some social engagement worthy of royalty.”

I tried, and failed, to imagine Bertrand as the life of a party. I just conjured an unsettling image of him playing Twister in his sweater vest. 

“Yeah,” said Maxwell wistfully. “Those were the days.”

Ana nodded. “Anyway. It all changed a few years ago, suddenly the Duke became ever so concerned with his privacy.”

“Can you really blame him for wanting some privacy?” I asked. 

Ana shrugged. “Part of being a noble in the Cordonian court is giving up any expectation of privacy. That _used_ to be something Bertrand loved.” She smirked at Maxwell. “The Beaumont brothers used to love living out their playboy dreams in the spotlight.”

I looked at Maxwell in curious amusement as Ana checked her phone. He was blushing profusely.

Ana finished typing something and looked back at us. “Besides, if Bertrand _truly_ wanted to be a recluse, he could move to some far-off mountain estate. He obviously still wants to be in the public eye.” A hint of disdain crept into her voice. “He just wants the public to be in awe of him and his--” she made air quotes with her elegantly manicured fingers “--wealth.”

Next to me, Maxwell’s shoulders drooped. “Are you going to run a story about my brother?”

“Yes,” she replied bluntly.

Maxwell’s face fell. “Bertrand would be devastated.”

I looked at her hopefully. “Is there anything we can do to convince you to spare him?” I had a tight, anxious sensation in my stomach. I knew that the public humiliation of House Beaumont would _not_ be good for my chances of being Liam’s choice. 

Ana sighed. “Look, I don’t appreciate Bertrand’s way of going about things. If he thinks he can intimidate me, he’s got another thing coming!”

Maxwell looked at her pleadingly. “But we’re not trying to intimidate you. We’re practically begging you!”

“True.”

“ _Please_ reconsider," he said miserably. "It would ruin our house’s reputation.”

Ana waved her hand dismissively. “Nonsense. People love a good riches-to-rags story even more than a rags-to-riches one. If anything it would make the people love you.”

I chewed my lip. “Actually, people would _pity_ them.” I really couldn’t imagine the proud Duke of Ramsford coping well with being openly pitied. His identity seemed entirely fused with that of his house. 

Ana nodded. “Perhaps. But is there anything wrong with pity?”

“There is to Bertrand. It would kill him.” Maxwell looked on the verge of tears. 

“I suppose it would, wouldn’t it…?” Ana looked at me thoughtfully. “Forgetting Bertrand, I have no desire to sabotage your chances in this competition, Lady Estella." She paused to consider for a few moments. "It would _perhaps_ be inappropriate if we published an exposé on your House before King Liam chooses his bride.” She tilted her head to one side. “I suppose in exchange for a delayed publication of my story… you’d be happy to keep talking to _Trend_ about your experiences at court?”

 _Hmm_. _It_ _sounded_ _like_ _a_ _very_ _fair_ _compromise_. I smiled. “I’m very happy to keep _Trend_ updated.”

She smirked. “Then I’ll delay my story until the end of the social season.” 

“Thank you!” Maxwell said gratefully. 

“Now, I really must be going. It was interesting talking to you both.” She glanced curiously between me and Maxwell. I wondered what conclusions she was jumping to. 

Once Ana had walked off, Maxwell turned to me. “Thanks for coming with me to talk to her. I’m really glad we did!” 

“Not a problem." We started to walk toward the gardens. "It’s always strange to hear people talk about the way things used to be. Was Bertrand really so different?”

Maxwell nodded. “Oh, you have no idea. He used to actually smile.”

I raised an amused eyebrow. “You were both well-known Cordonian playboys?"

Maxwell blushed again. “Err, I guess we did make a few of those silly lists.”

“C’mon, Maxwell, give me the gossip," I said eagerly. "How many of those lists did you make?"

He rubbed the back of his neck awkwardly. “Bertrand made two. I think I’ve been on about six.”

I shook my head in amusement. Having seen Maxwell that night in Kismet, his having a reputation made sense, but _Bertrand_? “I still can’t believe Bertrand was actually like that.”

Maxwell was clearly keen to change the subject. “Yeah… but enough about that. We’ve got to get you to your prince!”

***

The gardens at Applewood were beautiful. The court strolled alongside the immaculately-tended flower beds, chatting under trees dripping with pink apple blossom. 

“Where’s Liam?” I asked quietly. “I don’t see him anywhere.” It was hard not to feel anxious. I’d barely spoken to Liam since our expedition to the Forgotten Falls. I was apprehensive that he'd since decided to marry Olivia or Madeleine and was distancing himself from me.

Maxwell scanned his eyes around the gardens. “Well, Bertrand said he was here. I’ll look around.”

While Maxwell wandered off, I noticed there was an ‘Exhibit Closed’ sign on an enclosed gazebo. I slipped inside, and sure enough, there was Liam. He was staring contemplatively at a still pond of large golden koi, his face set in a frown. 

“Liam?” I asked quietly, trying not to startle him. 

He turned around in surprise, and I could see that he definitely looked sad. “Estella! I…”

“Is something wrong?” I asked gently. 

“No. It’s just…” He trailed off, shaking his head. “It's nothing. Never mind.” He didn’t sound like his usual confident self. 

“Liam, I can tell that something’s bothering you. Would you like to talk about it?”

He looked at me seriously. “Estella, can I ask you something?”

“Of course. You can ask me anything.” I felt another pang of anxiety.

“Do you.... Do you think you could handle being queen of Cordonia? Truly?”

So _that_ was what was worrying him. Clearly I needed to reassure him that I was ready for the role. I gave him my most confident smile. “I was born queen. Where do I pick up my crown?”

Liam chuckled, a smile creeping over his face. “Only you could make me smile at a time like this.”

I took a step toward him. “Liam, I know I haven’t spent as much time at court as some of the other ladies, but I’d like to think I could do a good job. I’ll do whatever it takes to prepare for the role. I’m not afraid of hard work.”

He nodded thoughtfully. “That’s… good.” It wasn’t the most encouraging reply.

I moved to stand next to him. “Is that what’s been on your mind recently?” I hoped that if he opened up about his specific concerns, I could do more to reassure him. 

He nodded. “That’s part of it. But as for the rest… I.... it’s not something I can talk about.” He looked at me sadly. "But trust me, if I could tell anyone, _you’d_ be the one I’d want to tell.”

“Liam…”

I reached out and touched his arm. He leaned into me for a brief moment, embracing me tightly. It was obvious that he was unhappy. 

Eventually he managed a weak smile. “Honestly, I’ll be fine. Anyway, it’s just boring royal business. Not worth troubling you about in any case.”

I didn't believe him, but it was obvious he wouldn't discuss the matter further.

We walked away from the gazebo and wound our way through the garden. Liam looked around thoughtfully. “I’ve always loved the view here.”

“It’s magical. I’ve never seen so much apple blossom."

He nodded. “The festival is a special time of year for this garden. I could stay here all day, but…” He smiled regretfully. 

“But?” I asked the question casually, but I felt a stab of apprehension. _Maybe_ _he_ _had_ _a_ _dinner_ _date_ _with_ _Madeleine_ _planned_. 

“I have plans to meet Drake.”

 _Bloody_ _Drake_. “Oh, I'm Sorry. I didn’t mean to interrupt you.”

Liam smiled. “You’re welcome to come with me. He’d probably be happy to see you. He sort of dreads this day every year.”

“He hates apples?” Given how the Cordonian Ruby tasted, I couldn’t really blame him. 

Liam shook his head. “Not quite. Today is Drake’s birthday.”

"Today’s Drake’s birthday? Figures he’d try to keep it a secret.”

“He'd actually probably be furious if he knew that I’d told you. He usually spends the day hiding out in his room. _Sometimes_ I’m able to convince him to have a drink with me. But that’s about as far as it goes. Ah, there he is now…”

Drake, Hana and Maxwell were approaching us through the gardens. 

“Oh, Drake!” I called out loudly.

He raised an eyebrow sceptically. “Why do you look so happy to see me?” Comprehension dawned on his face. “Oh no… god no…”

“Yep. Happy Birthday!”

Drake groaned. “Liam, you told her?”

Liam shook his head in amusement. “My deepest apologies, Drake. I forgot that it was such a closely guarded secret.” 

Drake crossed his arms in front of his chest huffily. “It’s fine. It doesn’t matter, because this is the last we’re going to speak of it ever again.” 

Hana looked at him in surprise. “You don’t want to do something fun on your birthday? Even I was allowed petit fours and an hour playing with my father’s cat each year…” I had a lot of questions about Hana's childhood.

Maxwell shook his head. “Man, Drake, even Hana feels bad for you." He turned to me. "Are all Americans as fussy as Drake is about birthdays, Estella?”

“Drake’s an American?” I asked in confusion.

“Half,” Drake explained grumpily. “On my mother’s side.”

Maxwell looked at him pleadingly. “C’mon, Drake, don’t you want to do something fun?”

“I don’t need fun to enjoy myself. Besides, what could you jokers possibly want to do that would be fun for me?” 

***

We managed to convince Drake to go out with us to an American Western-themed bar. Maxwell was eager to drink and dance the night away. I was happy for an opportunity for us to all spend time together and to sneak more time with Liam away from the contest. 

While I changed to go out, I googled Bertrand and Maxwell. To my amusement, _everything_ Ana and Maxwell had said was true. There were photographs of them both with a number of attractive women, although admittedly far more of Maxwell than his brother. The weirdest thing was seeing photos of Bertrand smiling. It was slightly unnerving, like seeing photos of Santa playing beer pong. 

Once I was dressed, I knocked on Bertrand’s door. He showed me into his room with a sigh. He was clearly still brooding over his encounter with Ana. 

Piles of papers and heavy ledgers were scattered across all the surfaces. It was obvious he was dealing with estate matters. 

He looked at me irritably as I settled into a sofa. “To what do I owe this intrusion, Estella?”

I smirked at him. “We negotiated a stay of execution for you with Ana De Luca.”

He was clearly surprised. His eyebrows flew upwards. “ _How_? She was entirely inflexible when I spoke to her.”

I leaned back smugly on the sofa cushions. “I agreed to pose nude for the cover of the next issue of _Trend_.” I somehow managed not to laugh as his eyes widened in horror. I kept my expression innocent. “Don’t worry, it’s all going to be _very_ tasteful. There’ll be apples placed over anything scandalous.” 

“I sincerely hope that you are not serious.” I noticed with amusement that he’d gone slightly red.

“Don’t worry, I’m only joking. It’s _Maxwell_ who’s agreed to appear naked on the cover of _Trend_.”

Bertrand snorted. “I somehow doubt that would increase Trend’s circulation figures.”

“I don’t know. Apparently he’s one of Cordonia’s most eligible Beaumont playboys.” I shot a meaningful glance at him.

He ignored my insinuation and raised an eyebrow. “What have you really offered Ana? She’s no fool.”

“She’s agreed on a delay until the end of the social season. I’ve agreed to keep _Trend_ in the loop about my experiences at court.”

Bertrand nodded thoughtfully, placing his hands behind his back. “So if you marry Liam, and House Beaumont is restored to glory, the story will in effect be void.

“Exactly. It’s another reason for us to work together.”

He surveyed me thoughtfully. “I have to admit I am, on this occasion, grateful for your meddling.”

I shrugged. “It’s Maxwell you should be thanking. It was his idea to speak to Ana. You know, you should really give him more chances to help you. He does care. Maybe just don’t give him any tasks that involve remembering things.”

“Hmm. Maybe I can let him sharpen my pencils.” Bertrand's gaze roamed over my outfit. It was the same dusky pink dress that I’d worn to Kismet the night I met Liam. “Why are you all dressed up, anyway?”

“We’re going out for Drake’s birthday.”

He raised an eyebrow. “I take it you’ll refrain from causing any scandals?”

“Don’t worry, Liam will be there. I’ll be on my finest future-consort behaviour.” I looked at him quizzically. “I assume you won't be joining us?”

He made an indignant hummmfing sound. “Absolutely not. I'm far too busy for such activities. Besides, Mr Walker and I have never quite seen eye to eye.”

“Too much competition to be the grumpiest person in the room?”

“Hmmf. Enjoy your evening, Lady Estella. Win House Beaumont a Prince.”

I stood up, smoothing down my dress. “Goodnight, Your Grace. Enjoy brooding over the estate ledgers.” 

He looked at me wearily. “A word of warning. Tomorrow you will be expected to consume a significant amount of food containing Cordonian Rubies. You might wish to reconcile yourself to their flavor.”

I wrinkled my nose. “Ughh. Any advice on how to ignore the sour taste?”

“Sit back, swallow and think of Cordonia.” There was a slight twinkle in his eyes. _He was actually joking._

I couldn’t help but laugh. Somewhere he clearly had a sense of humour trapped, trying to get out. 

“I’ll bear that in mind. Have a nice evening.”

“Goodnight, Lady Estella.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Next up it's Drake's birthday and there will be more horrible apples 🍎🍎 My autocorrect keeps trying to change Drake to Dracula. So maybe we'll be celebrating Dracula's birthday instead, who knows.
> 
> I have given up trying to figure out what month any of this is meant to be taking place. Apple blossom appears in April/May but apples are harvested in August to November. Sooo absolutely no idea. If they’re harvesting Cordonian Rubies in May, maybe that’s why they taste so bad 🤷😂.
> 
> Song lyrics at the start of this chapter are from I’d Rather Be Me by Jeff Richmond, Nell Benjamin and Tina Fey.


	12. As Sweet as Apple Pie

  
  


_If this is where the monarchy is headed..._

_Count me out_

  
  


“The party has arrived!” Maxwell announced enthusiastically as we arrived at a busy Western-themed bar. 

“Oh? Where?” Hana asked eagerly. 

“It’s _us_ , Hana. He means us,” said Drake, looking at Maxwell wearily. 

“Exactly, my good man.” Maxwell linked his arm through Hana’s. “As in, _we’re_ the life of the party.” 

“We are?” She asked doubtfully. 

“Well, some of us,” said Maxwell, gesturing his head meaningfully at Drake. 

Drake sighed. “I can’t believe you actually talked me into this.”

“Well, we did,” I said firmly, “and the first order of business is to get you a birthday drink!”

“I’ll buy the first round,” said Liam immediately.

I shook my head. “On his _birthday_? Any bartender with a heart would give him a _free_ drink to start the night off, don’t you think?”

Drake raised a sceptical eyebrow. “Free drinks are something that happens when you’re a _woman_ , Brook. Even at my twenty-first birthday I didn’t get so much as a free drop from anyone.”

“No? Well, let me see what I can do. Come on, Drake.”

With a quick wink at Liam, I pulled Drake over to the bar with me, giving the bartender what I hoped was a charming smile. “Hey, bartender, my friend here is celebrating his birthday today! Can we get a drink on the house?”

The bartender thought it over for a moment and nodded. Drake looked surprised. “It’s like everything I know is wrong.”

I gave him a smug smile. “Good of you to admit it.” 

Drake snapped his fingers. “No, wait. I figured it out. Of course he’ll do it for you. No one says no to a hot girl.”

I ignored the fact that Drake had called me hot, adhering to my decision to stop flirting with him. “Drake, I told him it’s for _you_ , maybe he thinks _you’re_ hot.”

Drake snorted. “I have been told I’m quite a catch, but in my experience guys don’t get free drinks.” 

“Until today!”

“Yeah, yeah. So, what am I having?”

I ordered him a whiskey. 

He smiled. “It’s really starting to feel like my birthday now. Gotta admit, I thought you might make me suffer.”

“I could ask him to put one of those little paper umbrellas in it for you?” I shrugged. “What can I say, it’s your birthday. Everyone deserves to have at least _one_ day out of the year when people are nice to them.”

He smiled. “A guy could get used to this.”

“Ha. I wouldn’t if I were you.”

Maxwell bounded over to join us. “There you two are! Prince Liam just paid the guy operating the mechanical bull. He wants Drake to ride!”

Drake shook his head, taking a long swig of his free whiskey. “Me? No way.”

Maxwell rolled his eyes. “I figured you wouldn’t want to, but Liam says you’re some kind of expert…”

“Is that true?” I asked curiously. It seemed like a niche thing to be an expert in. 

Drake glared at Maxwell. “There’s only one way you’d get to find out, and I’m not drunk enough to make a fool of myself yet.” 

***

Minutes later, Drake was thrown from the mechanical bull to the floor. 

“Good effort,” said Liam, helping him to his feet.

“How are you so good at that?” Hana asked, clearly impressed. 

Drake sighed. “My mom owns a cattle ranch in Texas.” He dusted down his jeans. “Now, if anyone needs me, I’ll be getting a whiskey at the bar.”

As the band struck up a new song, Maxwell’s eyes lit up. “We should hit the dance floor!”

Hana looked doubtful. “I don’t think you can waltz to this.”

Maxwell nodded enthusiastically. “Yeah, exactly the point. I mean _really_ dance. Like, the fun kind of dancing.” 

Hana’s response was slightly alarmed. “The… _fun…_ kind? What would that entail?”

Maxwell grinned. “I could tell you, but it’s going to be a lot more fun to show you.” 

We all followed Maxwell to the dance floor. While Maxwell introduced Hana to the fun kind of dancing, I took Liam’s hand.

He smiled at me. “Lady Estella.”

I shook my head in amusement. “We’re not at some courtly royal function. It’s just _Estella_ right now.” 

“Of course.”

As I swayed against him, I could see that he was blushing, even by the bar’s dim lighting. I wrapped my arms around his neck, smiling suggestively. “Liam, what could you possibly be thinking right now?”

“Ahem. Just how enjoyable it is to have you so close.”

“That’s funny. I was just thinking the same thing.”

He smiled as he put a hand on my waist, happily holding me close to him. I felt a thrill of excitement. _Things were going well._

He looked at me earnestly. “Even in a crowded country bar, it’s amazing how everyone else in the room seems to fall away when I look into your eyes…” _Things were going really well._

“Liam…”

***

As the night went on we stayed on the dance floor. Maxwell was adopted by an attractive woman in a gold mini dress. Hana, Drake, Liam and I stayed as a group. Remarkably, nobody seemed to recognise Liam. 

“It’s the context,” he explained with a shrug. “Nobody expects to see me here. They’ll probably just assume I’m a guy who looks a bit like the Prince.”

After Maxwell insisted on taking Drake and Liam to the bar to buy birthday shots, his new friend grabbed Hana and I each by a hand.

“Hey,” she said enthusiastically. “Neither of you are like his jealous girlfriend, right?” She gestured her head toward Maxwell then looked between us anxiously. 

“Definitely not,” I said with an amused head shake. 

She grinned. “Yess! And he’s single, right?”

“I _think_ so.” It occurred to me that I knew literally _nothing_ about Maxwell's love life, but, based on that night back in _Kismet,_ I thought it was probably safe to assume he didn’t have a girlfriend. He’d certainly never mentioned one.

“Whooo!” She ran off to join him at the bar. Hana and I exchanged an amused shrug.

***

As the last song of the night wound down, our group gathered to leave.

“We shut this place down!” Maxwell said cheerfully. “What did you think, Hana?”

Hana considered for a moment, before smiling. “This was scary… but a fun kind of scary?”

“That’s the spirit!" Maxwell said enthusiastically. "You’ll learn to love going out. Just wait until next time.”

“Next time?” She asked in surprise.

Liam smiled, his eyes lingering on me. “I hope there’s a next time, as long as we can find another way to sneak out.” 

I met his eyes with a smile of my own. “We’ll make it happen.” 

While we collected our belongings from the cloakroom, Drake and I found ourselves watching Maxwell and his new friend. She had her arms wound around his neck and was whispering in his ear.

Drake shook his head with an amused smile. “Here we go. I bet she’s coming back to Applewood with us.”

I grinned. “I have heard Maxwell has a bit of a reputation.”

Drake snorted. “Yeah, I think that’s fair.” 

We made our way outside the club. Hana and Liam were walking a little way ahead of us, talking animatedly. I felt an uncomfortable stab of jealousy. I sometimes forgot that Hana was my rival as much as my friend. I knew I probably ought to be more guarded around her. 

“What’s it like?” Drake asked curiously.

“What’s _what_ like?”

Drake raised an eyebrow. “Dating a man who’s also dating your friend.” He counted on his hands. “Oh, and four other women too.” There was a hint of bitterness in his voice. I imagined it wasn’t easy being a prince’s best friend. I wondered just how many women had used Drake as a way of getting closer to Liam over the years. 

I sighed, reapplying my lipstick. “When his attention is on me, it’s fine. I forget about the others...” I looked at him and Hana. She was tucking a strand of hair behind her ear. “But, I don’t want to share.” I smirked confidently at Drake. “And I don’t intend to for much longer.”

“You’re kinda scary when you’re like this, Brook.”

“Hah. How was your birthday anyway?”

He considered. “You know, to tell you the truth, I always dreaded my birthday when I was a kid.”

“You _dreaded_ your birthday?”

He nodded. “My parents tried hard, really hard, to give me the best birthday they could. But I kind of always knew that no matter what they did, Liam’s parents were going to top it.” He gazed into the distance, and I knew he’d retreated to the land of childhood memories. “My parents got me a toy T-rex? Liam’s parents got the entire palace staff to dress up like dinosaurs for _his_ birthday. My parents got me a cake shaped like a car? Liam’s parents got him a cake the _size_ of a car.” 

Secretly, I thought it was kind of perverse that Drake’s parents had tried to compete with a literal Prince. “That must have been hard. Did you hate Liam’s guts?”

He shrugged. “Heh, it was tempting, but you know how Liam is. If anyone can pull off extravagant wealth without being obnoxious, it’s him. So these over-the-top birthday parties never got under my skin. But they were hell on my parents. They knew they could never even come close to what my best friend was getting… and that killed them. So around when I was nine or ten, I made a decision to stop trying. No more birthday parties, no more cakes, no more presents… all I wanted was to spend the day with my family doing something fun. My parents loved it. Made them feel like they could really give me something special.”

I felt a twinge of guilt. “Drake, I hope we didn’t get in the way of any family traditions tonight.”

“Nah. My family’s not here anymore, so I wasn't really expecting to do anything tonight.”

“Any word from Savannah today?” I asked quietly. 

He shook his head wearily. “Nothing.”

“She isn’t _missing_ missing, is she?” I asked anxiously. “Have you filed a missing persons report?”

He sighed. “No. She sent a message to our mom saying she was safe, but that’s all the contact we’ve had.” _Yikes_. _What the hell had happened to Savannah Walker?_ Olivia’s hazing was bad, but it wasn’t _change-your-name, run-away-and-never-look-back_ bad. 

“I’m sorry, Drake.”

“It’s alright, Brook. Anyway, tonight has actually been… well, it’s really been _fun_. And if I’m being honest with myself, it’s felt a lot more like those special birthdays with my family than I thought it could.”

I smiled. “Drake, I’m happy you’re happy. I’m glad you enjoyed yourself.”

He stared at me for a long moment. 

“This is you _happy_ , right?” I asked quizzically. 

“About as happy as I get.” 

The sound of rapid footsteps announced a breathless Maxwell catching up with us. 

Drake looked at him in surprise. “Where’s your new friend?”

“Emily? Oh, she went home with her friends.”

Drake and I exchanged a bemused glance. “I thought you two were getting on well?” I asked playfully. 

Maxwell shrugged awkwardly. It was obvious that he felt uncomfortable. “Nah. I mean, she seemed really nice, but I don’t think Bertrand would appreciate me risking a scandal by bringing anyone back to Applewood in the middle of the social season.”

“Fair enough,” I said cheerfully, “but it would have been hilarious watching you try to sneak her out in the morning without him noticing.”

***

The next morning at breakfast, Hana and I suffered through a range of Cordonian-Ruby-flavoured breakfast ‘treats’. We agreed that the apple tart with whipped apple butter was revolting but would have been fine with _normal_ apples. 

“Estella,” Hana said awkwardly as we sipped our coffees, “are you and I, okay?”

I looked at her in confusion. “Why wouldn’t we be, Hana?”

She glanced down at her empty plate. “Well, I did monopolise Liam on the walk home last night.”

I gently touched her arm. “Hana, we’re all here for the same reason. I don't begrudge you for wanting to spend time with the Prince.”

She nodded, clearly reassured. “You know he’s really falling for you, right? He tries to hide it, but it’s so obvious when you’re together.”

“I hope you’re right.” It was my turn to look at her anxiously. “Do you hate me?”

“Of course I don’t! The Prince was always going to choose one of us. I’ll be happy if it’s you.”

I gave her hand a grateful squeeze. “Right, let’s go and get dressed for another day of apple-centric fun.”

***

I was waylaid by Bertrand before I reached my bedroom. “Estella, there you are! I’m here to help prepare you for today’s events at the Apple Blossom Festival.” He was dressed in his customary brown suit and sweater vest. Today's sweater vest had a knitted apple pattern. _Very apt_. 

I sighed. “We’ve gone through all of this so many times, Bertrand. The Queen will ask us all to perform a task. I need to try and impress her, then someone is crowned Apple Queen in what’s basically a popularity contest.” I glanced at my phone. “I’d better get dressed. There’s only an hour to go.”

“Which is why there’s no time to lose.” He set off briskly down the corridor toward his room. I followed in confusion. 

He closed the door behind us. “Through a series of promises and threats, I was able to procure a historically accurate rendition of a Cordonian peasant’s best gown from the country’s most prestigious stage production company.” He opened a garment bag with a flourish. “With this dress, you’ll be sure to win the title of Apple Queen!”

I looked at the dress sceptically. It was blue with a floral trim, large white sleeves and a white apron. There was a line of green and yellow decoration on the bust. I raised an eyebrow. “So _this_ is why you got Maxwell to take my dress measurements. It looks like something the von Trapps would wear to perform Hamlet.”

He rolled his eyes. “Go and try it on.”

Unconvinced, I dipped into his en-suite bathroom to change. The dress fitted fine, but the zip was stubborn and refused to budge past my waist. 

“Are you going to faint if I ask you to help me with the zipper?” I called through the door.

He audibly sighed. “I will refrain from fainting.”

I stepped doubtfully out of the bathroom, turning around and lifting my hair up so that he could assist with the zip. It was a trivial task, something it wouldn't have bothered me at all to ask Maxwell. But for some reason, the sensation of his hand on my waist as he carefully battled with the zip, made me blush. It felt strangely intimate given our contentious relationship.

“How was your evening?” He asked curiously.

"Good. I think Drake enjoyed his birthday."

“Did you spend much time with Prince Liam?” 

“Of course.”

“Good.” He successfully zipped the dress up, fastening the hook-and-eye at the top. 

“Well?” I asked, turning around and meeting his eyes tentatively. “Are you sure it’s not… too silly?”

“It’s perfect.” He actually _smiled_. “You can thank me later. Come, we’re overdue to meet, Maxwell.”

***

As Bertrand and I reached the apple orchard, Maxwell bounced over to join us. “Hey, Estella, ready to show off your baking skills?”

“So it’s apple pie baking, not flower arranging?”

He nodded, pointing to where the other suitors were gathering for the royal bake-off. 

Bertrand glowered at me. “Make House Beaumont proud.” Resisting the urge to roll my eyes, because we were in public, I made my way to join the other ladies, taking a spot in-between Hana and Kiara. 

Moments later, Queen Regina arrived, dressed in an immaculate suit. She smiled at the suitors and observers. “Greetings ladies, I’m glad to see everyone here again. We will soon be dividing into two teams to partake in the apple pie baking contest.” She paused for dramatic effect. “I’ve decided that Olivia will captain one team and Madeleine the other.” _Uh oh, that indicated who Queen Regina’s two favourites were._ “Ladies, please select your teams.” 

Madeleine was first to choose. “I choose Lady Estella.”

I managed to conceal my surprise as I moved to stand by her side. Olivia chose Kiara. Madeleine’s next choice was Hana. That left Olivia with Penelope.

Penelope smiled cheerfully. “Ohhh, we’ll bake poodle-shaped pie crumpets.”

Olivia was clearly regretting her life choices. “ _No_.”

Penelope’s face fell. “Okay…”

“I’m surprised Madeleine chose us,” Hana whispered to me. 

“She’s being tactical. She knows we’re probably the only ones who can bake.”

As we all walked toward the outdoor baking setup, the Queen approached me. I dropped into a neat curtsy. “Lady Estella, I hope you’ll exceed expectations like last time.” 

“Don’t worry, Your Majesty. I’ll bake you something that’d make angels weep.” 

She nodded approvingly. “That’s the spirit. Best of luck, Lady Estella.” 

***

Once both teams were assembled at the two workbenches, the Queen stepped forward. “Ladies, let the Cordonian bake-off begin!”

Madeleine set Hana and I to peeling and preparing apples while she made the pastry. While Madeleine agonised over the seasoning and filling, Hana turned to me with a smile. “Want to help me decorate it before it goes in the oven?” 

“Consider me at your command.” 

Hana looked intently down at the pastry in front of her. “I want to add a little flair to the pie, so it’ll bake with a pretty design. Though I’m not sure what the design should be. What do you think the Queen would like?”

I glanced at Queen Regina, catching a glimpse of the shining brooch on her cardigan. “We should add a Cordonian Royal Seal. It’s a pie fit for a queen after all.” 

Hana’s face lit up. “The seal is a bit complicated, but I love a challenge!”

“Let me know what I can do.”

“If you do the heart, I’ll deal with the lions.”

As we toiled away at the dough, I glanced over Hana’s shoulder. “Wow… you’re really amazing at this.” 

Hana shook her head fondly. “You sound so surprised.” 

“Just… very impressed.” 

Madeleine’s eyes widened as she examined our work. 

“Do you think the Queen will like it?” Hana asked her anxiously. 

Madeleine said nothing, but she smiled as she took the pie over to the oven. 

While we waited for the pie to cook, Hana and I took a break. We sipped glasses of lemon water, enjoying the warmth of the sun filtering through the apple trees. Madeleine, meanwhile, remained glued to the oven, obsessively watching the pie bake. 

“So, Hana, let me guess. Baking is another one of those skills you had to learn.” 

She nodded. “The way to a man’s heart is through his stomach,’ as my mother used to say. But at least I got to taste test all of my creations.”

“Better than ice skating then?”

She grinned. “I think so. What about you? Do you do much baking?”

“Some. I’ve always cooked for my friends.”

We both jumped when the oven pinged, moving over to join Madeleine. She removed the pie from the oven as if it was made of thin glass, carrying it reverently to present to Queen Regina as Olivia delivered her team’s pie. Olivia’s eyes bulged comically, and she swallowed nervously as she glimpsed Hana’s pastry decorations. 

The Queen smiled. “Thank you both. We’ll begin the judging with Olivia’s pie.” She carefully examined the quality of the pie’s presentation. “This is very well done. Good work, Olivia.”

Olivia smiled smugly. “Thank you ma’am.”

Queen Regina cut out a piece of pie and bit into it with a silver fork. “Oh, that is delightfully scrumptious. A perfect blend of sugar and spices.” She then shifted her attention to our team’s pie. “Hmm, this design is amazing. Who did this?”

Hana smiled shyly. “I did, Your Majesty.” 

“You’re exceptionally talented, Lady Hana.” 

“Thank you, ma’am, but I had some help from Lady Estella.”

“Then let me extend my compliments to both of you. And the crust is in splendid condition.” She cut into the pie and sampled a small bite. “The perfect amount of apples with exquisite flavouring.” 

“Thank you, ma’am," said Madeleine proudly. 

The Queen meticulously dabbed her mouth with a napkin. “After weighing the strengths and weaknesses of each side… I declare Madeleine’s team the winner! This is one of the best apple pies I’ve had in a long time and by far the best presented. Very well done, ladies.”

Madeleine’s face lit up. “You honour us all, ma’am!”

The Queen turned to us all with a smile. “Now, if you’ll proceed across the grounds for our next event…” As the suitors moved across the orchard, Queen Regina approached me. I couldn’t help but notice that the Queen was seeking out opportunities to speak to me. _Hopefully that was a positive sign._ “Lady Estella, may I have a word?”

“Of course, ma’am.” 

She led me away from the other ladies for a stroll through a quiet patch of the apple orchard. When we stopped she examined me seriously. “First, I’d like to compliment you on your historically accurate costume. It’s nice to see you embracing our traditions.” I made a mental note to thank Bertrand after all. 

“Thank you, ma’am. I suspect this isn’t what you took me on this walk to talk about though, is it?”

She smiled. “Ah, you are direct but not incorrect. I wanted us to get to know one another better. I’ve been impressed with how you’ve comported yourself so far. You’ve demonstrated grace and composure unlike most.”

“Thank you, ma’am.” _So far so good._

She nodded in acknowledgement. “But a queen, no matter how graceful and composed, cannot be everywhere at once. You’ll need to appoint advisers and ambassadors to act in your stead.” 

I nodded. “Effective delegation is effective leadership.” 

“Precisely. That is why I’d like to hear your opinion on some of those around you.” 

“Of course.” 

“Madeleine is one of your strongest competitors. What’s your opinion of her?” 

_Madeleine is me if I turned to the dark side._ I considered for a moment. “She’s a valuable asset. She has the knowledge and the skills to thrive at court, and she uses that to her advantage. She could be a valuable ally, or a difficult enemy.” 

“An interesting assessment.” Queen Regina had a remarkably good poker face. “Your House Sponsors, Duke Ramsford and his brother, Lord Maxwell, have built an excellent reputation for their house. However, there have been rumours that the Duke was sceptical of his younger brother’s choice of suitor. What is _your_ opinion of the Duke?”

_He’s an insufferable but necessary evil. I enjoy antagonising him._ I smiled. “The Duke is proud and knowledgeable. He has been an invaluable source of advice, and I’ve been welcomed with open arms into House Beaumont.” 

“So, he’s someone you’d want to keep in your inner circle, I assume?”

_No_. “Absolutely.”

“What you say about your friends can reveal more about you than about them. And Prince Liam’s commoner friend, Drake? You’re by his side quite often despite him having little to do with the competition.” 

_He’s hot but jaded._ “Drake is reliable, if rough around the edges. He can be moody, but he’ll come through for his friends in a pinch. Drake’s loyal, and I understand why Prince Liam trusts him. I do too.”

The Queen smiled. “It’s good to surround yourself with people you can trust. A true queen must have a network of allies she can call upon. It’s clear you’ve been assessing how those around you may help you one day.”

“I do my best.”

She nodded. “You may return to the other suitors, Lady Estella. It’s time I announce the next event.”

“Of course. Thank you, ma’am.” _I wondered if I'd passed her test._

***

I curtsied and rejoined the other ladies among a gathering crowd of onlookers. The Queen addressed everyone. “The Apple Blossom Festival symbolises the growth vital to keeping our small nation thriving. Now, as is tradition, we will honour one distinguished, best dressed lady as this year’s Apple Queen. This is a ceremonial position for the people to decide. Last year, it was our very own, Lady Madeleine.”

Madeleine stepped forward with a smile. “And I very much appreciated the honour.”

The Queen turned her attention to the crowd. “As for this year… Citizens of Cordonia, who do you wish to honour with this title?”

The crowd erupted into wild cries, a frenzied mix of names, cheers, and boos. I spotted Drake and Maxwell at the front, both calling my name. I gave them a subtle wink. 

_Estella!_

Somehow, chants for ‘Estella’ overpowered any dissenting names. I tried to keep the triumph off my face as I spotted Liam beaming at me. 

The Queen smiled. “I think we have a clear winner. Lady Estella will be this year’s Apple Queen.” 

There was a flurry of activity from the attending press. “Breaking news, folks, Lady Estella has been elected Apple Queen. What will this mean for the race to win Prince Liam’s hand? Our expert panel will weigh in shortly. Stay tuned.”

Maxwell broke into a cheer. “Wooooooo! Go Estella! Party like it’s 1299! All hail the Apple Queen from the Big Apple!”

The Queen gestured for to me to join her. “Lady Estella, please join me for your Coronation.”

I stood before the Queen and was handed an apple-shaped sceptre. “Lady Estella, I pronounce you Queen of the Apples. Long live the Apple Queen!”

I smiled warmly. “Queen Regina, It is an honour." I turned to the assembled crowd. "Thank you all for electing me to represent you as the Apple Queen. I’m happy to accept this esteemed position, and I will treat it with the utmost respect.”

The Queen smiled. “My queen, I will serve as your acting seneschal and guide you through the ceremony. Before we proceed, we must fill out the Apple Court. These are the courtiers who will parade behind you. Who will be your cup-bearer? This person should be a close confidant you’d trust with your life.” 

I caught Liam's eye with a smile. “Prince Liam, naturally.”

Liam smiled warmly, taking his place at my right hand side. “I’m glad you’ve put your trust in me, my queen.” Hearing him call me _my queen_ made my heart flutter excitedly. 

The Queen pulled out a goofy-looking fool’s cap. “My queen, if you’ll name your court jester.” 

_Another obvious choice_. “Maxwell.”

Maxwell stepped forward grinning. “Step aside, plebians. Three-time jester MVP, coming through.”

Drake shook his head wearily. “You’re not supposed to enjoy this.”

Maxwell raised an eyebrow. “I’m sensing jealousy.”

Drake rolled his eyes. “Forget I said anything.”

Maxwell plopped the jester cap on his head, the bells jingling as they fell down his face. I caught a glimpse of Bertrand grimacing in the crowd. _Damn, I should have chosen him as my jester._ He'd probably have never spoken to me again. 

Queen Regina smiled benevolently at me. “My queen, with your court assembled, it is your right to issue an edict before your people.”

I turned to the crowd. “My people, I’m here because of you, and I will be your faithful Apple Queen, the Apple Queen of the people!”

Queen Regina gave a nod to summon a horse pulling a wagon of apples. “Oh, magnanimous Apple Queen, please show your generosity and share your beautiful harvest with us.”

I climbed onto the wagon with my ‘court’ and paraded past the crowd, distributing apples to the flood of clamouring hands along the parade line. At the end, Madeleine stood by a potted baby apple tree.

The Queen gestured for me to join Madeleine. “Your majesty, please honour your ancestor, last year’s Apple Queen, and plant a tree for the next generation.” 

Madeleine curtsied as I approach. “My queen. Happy wishes for you.” 

I smiled. “Thank you, _my ancestor_.”

Madeleine looked as if she was sucking a particularly bitter lemon. “The labour of your forebears will help you build a better world.” She lowered her voice. “Not many get the pleasure of being addressed as ‘my queen.’ Savour these moments. You may never hear the phrase again.”

I met her eyes. “I think I might.”

She visibly tensed. “Every lady here thinks the same thing. It won’t help you one bit.” 

Our eyes both flickered to where Liam watched me adoringly. I smiled calmly at her. “No… but something else might.”

Madeleine narrowed her eyes and stepped back to reveal a hole for the sapling. “The ground is yours, _my_ _queen_.”

I took the baby apple tree from the pot and placed it into the hole, carefully scooping the dirt around it. I smiled at the assembled crowd. “Everyone, the work we do today will benefit future generations. They deserve something worth inheriting.”

The crowd clapped and Queen Regina stepped forward. “Thank you, gracious Apple Queen. As for your final honour…”

Liam knelt before me. “I may be in your service, but in my capacity as a prince, you are entitled to a kiss, my queen.”

I grinned. “Liam, get up here and kiss me.”

“As my queen commands.” Smiling warmly, Prince Liam stood and tenderly leaned in to kiss me on the cheek.

***

With the tree planted and the kiss received, the crowd began to disperse. Liam was immediately called away by a group of nobles. 

Queen Regina smiled at me. It’s time I head back to the Applewood Manor, but please feel free to enjoy the festival as the reigning Apple Queen. Past queens have been popular at the apple bobbing contest.”

“Thank you, ma’am.”

I looked around for a familiar face and spotted Bertrand, who stood watching proceedings from beneath an apple tree. I offered him an apple, which he accepted after a moment's hesitation.

He examined me contemplatively. “If you’re not careful, Estella. I might begin to have faith in you.”

“If you’re not careful. I might begin to have faith in you, _my queen_.” I corrected him.

He rolled his eyes. “Haven’t you had enough of bossing people around?”

“We don’t all have fancy titles, _Your Grace_. Some of us have to seize what opportunities we can.” I looked at him thoughtfully. “By the way, people have noticed that you don’t like me very much.”

He raised an eyebrow. “What people?”

“ _Queen Regina_. She described you as _sceptical_ of me... You know, it won't help my chances if my own house sponsor is openly uncertain about me.”

“Hmmf. What else did she say?”

I smirked. “She asked me what I thought of _you_.”

“And what did you say?” He demanded. 

I said nothing. I just smiled and walked off, feeling his eyes boring into my back.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Song lyrics at the start of this chapter are from I Just Can't Wait to be King by Tim Rice and Elton John.


	13. The Thrill of the Hunt

  
  
_I'm going in for the kill_

_I'm doing it for a thrill_

  
  


I hadn’t got far before I was stopped by the other Beaumont brother. “There’s our glorious Apple Queen,” said Maxwell cheerfully. 

“Thank you for your support,” I said gratefully. “I heard you cheering out there.”

He shrugged. “Well, somebody had to do it. Anyway, that’s not why I’m here. I _might_ be able to get you some time alone with Prince Liam! I happen to know he’s in the conservatory right now waiting for a few nobles.” Maxwell grinned. “I _could_ distract them long enough for you to have a romantic moment alone with him.”

I smiled gratefully. “Maxwell, you’re the best!”

“Heh. Well, someone needs to think I’m the best to make up for Bertrand thinking I’m the worst." The expression on his face implied that all was _definitely_ not well between the brothers, but he quickly plastered on a smile. "Right, I’ll go and distract Liam’s appointment.”

As Maxwell had suggested, I found Liam in the manor’s conservatory, admiring the various plants and flowers. He looked up with a smile when he heard me approach. “Are you wearing an authentic peasant costume?” He examined my outfit appreciatively.

I nodded. “Bertrand says it's historically accurate.”

“Well, you look fantastic.” _I really did need to thank Bertrand._

“Thank you!" I smiled sympathetically at him. "You’ve been busy today.”

"Yes…" His smile wavered. “Since my father announced his abdication at the Regatta. I’ve been suddenly overrun by nobles wanting to… Well, congratulate isn’t quite the right word, but they want to spend a few moments with the soon-to-be king." Liam sighed, looking wistfully around the conservatory. "My Coronation seemed like a distant event, but now it’s actually happening.” He looked at me anxiously, his expression tense. “In a couple of weeks, I’ll be the King of Cordonia. I thought I’d have more time…"

I took a confident step toward him, fully aware that he was looking to me for reassurance. "Liam, you’ll have me by your side. We can do anything together."

He moved to close the gap, his expression softening. "You make me believe you. We are a good team, aren’t we?"

"The best."

He smiled, but I caught a flicker of uncertainty in his eyes. "It’s just strange to think that so many people will be counting on _me,_ depending on _me_."

I kept my eyes on his. "Liam, I don’t think they could ask to be in better hands. You may not be able to see yourself clearly, but _I_ do." 

"And what do you see?" He asked quietly. 

I smiled encouragingly. "You’re kind, compassionate, and responsible to a fault. But most of all… You’re always thinking of others. I've known that since the night we met. As king, I know you’ll be thinking of everyone in your care."

He nodded. “Those in power have a responsibility to use that power for those who have none.”

I shook my head fondly. “I love how you say that like it’s common sense, but there are a lot of people who don’t think like you do. And that’s why it’s so important that you’re going to be the king.” 

He smiled gratefully, but there was still tension evident on his face. “You see me so clearly, but what about yourself?” He looked at me intently. “I know there’s so much still undecided, but let’s say you _were_ my selection. You’re such a free spirit, Estella.” His smile vanished as his expression tensed further. “And I love that about you. But there are expectations that come with being queen. Royal events, life at the palace… _children_. Do you see your place at my side?” 

I felt a flicker of excitement. It was obvious that he was _seriously_ considering making me his choice. I considered my answer carefully, trying to find the words to best soothe his anxieties. “Liam, of course I do. I can’t wait for my adventure with you to start. As long as I’m with you, I’m ready for anything.” 

His smile returned. “That means a lot to me, Estella.”

I kept my expression serious. I knew how important this was to him. “I mean it."

He took my hand, his eyes tender. “Meeting you in New York was one of the best things that’s ever happened to me. You’ve changed my life.” 

I smiled. “Liam, I’ve gone from waiting tables to waltzing with a prince. My life has changed too, thanks to you.” 

“For the better, I hope?”

“Incomparably.” 

He looked at me earnestly. “Estella, whatever happens, know that I’m grateful for the time we’ve spent together.” He paused in front of a light-pink, flowering bush. Reaching out, he carefully picked a rose and handed it to me. “Have you ever seen a Juliet Rose? Also known as the Five Million Dollar Flower.”

I accepted the rose with a smile, examining its delicate petals. “Please tell me this didn’t cost that much?”

He chuckled. “Not quite. It’s rumoured that the man who created this specific peach-coloured rose spent fifteen years and five million dollars to do so.” 

“There’s something very sweet about dedicating all of that just to bring us this one flower. Obsessive perhaps, but beautiful.” 

He nodded. “Truly it must’ve been a labour of love.” 

“Thank you for showing it to me.”

He smiled. “It’s nothing. After all, today is all about blossoms. I hope you’re enjoying the festival?”

“You know, I loved it. I’ve never seen so many apples in my life.” _Even if they did all taste terrible._

He seemed relieved by my answer. “The festival is one of Cordonia’s many little charms.” His gaze lingered on me. “Well, I don’t know how much longer Maxwell can stall the nobles. He can’t entertain _all_ of my appointments.”

“He could try…”

Liam smiled, closing the gap between us. Our lips met, my arms wrapping around his neck as his hands tightened around me. As the kiss grew more heated, he trailed his hands down my arms and waist, his mouth moving from mine to the sensitive spots down my neck. A shiver of desire ran through me. “Oh, Liam…”

He sighed reluctantly. “We’d better stop, or I’ll never leave you.”

“Is that so bad?”

He captured my lips in one long, lingering kiss, then reluctantly pulled away, tucking a strand of hair behind my ear. “Until next time.”

Reluctantly, I walked out of the conservatory door. When I paused and looked back, Liam held my gaze through the glass. 

I wondered if I was falling in love with him. I knew that I enjoyed his company, that his touch felt good. I believed that he was kind, and good, and honourable. But the nature of this strange competition made our every interaction feel like a competition, and _I definitely wanted to win the competition._

***

The next morning, I was barely up and dressed before there was a knock at my door. I opened it to find both Beaumont brothers stood in the hallway. 

“Rise and shine, little blossom!” Maxwell said cheerfully. 

“Wake up. No one’s getting any younger here,” Bertrand’s expression was his usual glower. I wasn’t convinced that he was by nature a morning person.

“Isn’t it a little early for this? I haven’t had breakfast yet.”

“Today’s event starts early!” Maxwell was far too enthusiastic for this hour in the morning. 

“Obviously. Do you think we enjoy standing outside your door in the early hours like some sort of postal delivery service?”

Maxwell and I looked at Bertrand in confusion. “That’s not what they…” Maxwell shook his head. “Never mind. Today’s going to be awesome! Estella, you’re going to commune with nature along Cordonia’s majestic countryside.” 

I sighed. “Maxwell. Nature is overrated. Let’s just say I’m more the ‘indoorsy’ type.”

He looked disappointed. “But nature has so much to offer.”

I wrinkled my nose. “Yes... bug bites, poison oak, wild animals…”

“I’m not particularly enthused about it either,” said Bertrand grimly, taking me by surprise, “but you’re going to tough it out for the Prince’s hand.”

 _“I_ think it’ll be fun,” said Maxwell. 

“You would,” Bertrand and I said simultaneously. Maxwell’s face fell. 

“Can you ride?” Bertrand asked wearily. “Unfortunately we couldn’t procure a horse to train you for this.”

“Just about.” I’d had college friends who were preppy horse types, and I’d spent a few vacations with them. Unlike skiing and climbing, a day on horseback wasn’t too nerve-wracking, just as long as I wasn't expected to perform dressage or show jumping. 

“A very encouraging answer,” said Bertrand irritably. 

I ignored his irritation. “Where are we headed?”

Maxwell smiled. “We’ll be following one of the historic hunting trails the old nobility would use. You’ll be riding on horseback through some of the most gorgeous countryside in Cordonia.” 

Bertrand managed to squeeze in a final glare before leaving the room. “We’ll leave you to get dressed. Choose something suitable for a day on horseback.”

 _Uh oh_. I’d thought I was already suitably dressed. Apparently my jeans and smart sweater were deemed inappropriate by his Grumpy Grace. 

***

I quickly messaged Hana for her opinion on what to wear. She soon appeared at my door dressed in an immaculate riding uniform, complete with a smart blue jacket. 

“You look very smart, Hana!”

She smiled. “Oh, this? It’s my riding uniform. It’s going to have plenty of scuffs and dirt marks by the end of today.”

I grimaced. “I didn’t bring a fancy riding uniform with me.”

She nodded thoughtfully. “Don’t worry. There may be one or two left in the boutique. I saw Olivia heading that way after breakfast.”

Sure enough, when we arrived at the boutique, Olivia was fastening the final button on a fitted, green blazer. She turned to us with a smirk. “Voila. Perfection, if I do say so myself.”

“You look lovely, Olivia,” said Hana politely. 

Olivia grinned. “Of course I do.”

I smiled enthusiastically. “Olivia, let’s coordinate outfits. We’d look _so_ cute together.” 

“Oooh! Like a trio,” said Hana, her eyes twinkling playfully.

Olivia instantly took the bait. “You two will look nothing like me. This outfit compliments my dignity and grace, which neither of you have. So no matter how you wear it, you’ll never look as good as me.”

“We’ll see about that.” I grabbed a uniform from the rack and stepped into the changing room. It consisted of a pair of brown jodhpurs, a white blouse and a smart maroon jacket. I barely glanced at the price. Whatever it cost, it would be worth it to antagonise Olivia. 

I emerged in my new outfit. “Spiffy, don’t you think?”

“It’s like you stepped out of a Victorian painting,” said Hana cheerfully. 

Olivia glowered. “Please… Victorians haven’t been in style for centuries.”

_Witty, Olivia… Witty._

***  
  


As soon as I stepped outside, Maxwell grabbed me by the hand, pulling me over to the end of the walkway. “Whoa!” I cried indignantly, almost losing my footing. 

“There you are,” said Bertrand irritably. 

Maxwell smiled. “You found an outfit.”

I did a brief twirl. “What do you think?”

Maxwell gave me an encouraging grin. “You look great, Estella.” I didn’t want Maxwell’s approval. I could have shown up in a pillowcase and he’d have said something nice. 

Bertrand looked my outfit up and down critically. “Acceptable.”

I raised an eyebrow. “Thanks.” _Ughh. Why did I care what he thought? I did not need validation from a man wearing a horseshoe-print sweater vest under his tweed jacket._

Bertrand just rolled his eyes. “Yes, yes. Now if your ego is sufficiently tended to, we’ve another more pressing matter. Time is of the essence.” 

Maxwell looked at his brother doubtfully. “Isn't it always with you?”

Bertrand ignored him. “I noticed Prince Liam was preparing his ride when I went to inspect the mounts just now…”

I took the hint. “I take it that means you want me to go and find him?”

Bertrand nodded. “Exactly. You should have been by his side ten minutes ago. Maxwell, take her to the stables.”

“Yes, sir."

***

Maxwell rushed me over to the stables. Peering through the window, he surveyed the stalls. “Coast is clear. Prince Liam is alone. I’ll delay anyone who tries to enter, you get in there and impress our Prince.”

I grinned confidently. “As if I could do anything else.”

I strode into the stables, startling a few horses in their stalls. Liam looked up from petting a horse’s head. “Lady Estella… You have a habit of finding me when I’m alone.”

I moved to join him. “Hah… What strange coincidences.”

He smiled playfully. “Hmm.. coincidences, or plans in disguise?”

I met his eyes with a mischievous smile. “Let’s not overthink things.”

Liam’s lips quirked. “I couldn’t, even if I wanted to. My mind goes blank every time I see you.” Catching me by surprise, he quickly squeezed me in a tight embrace. After he released me, he examined my outfit with a smile. _At least somebody liked it._ “I hope you’re looking forward to the Royal Hunt today.”

“I always look forward to spending time with you.”

“I’ll take that as a vote of confidence. But I know some people who don’t do well with horses, and I’ve never seen you ride before.”

“Then you’ll have to wait and see if I manage to stay on my horse.” 

“I take it you don’t have a ride for the Royal Hunt yet?”

“Well… no…”

Liam smiled reassuringly. “Luckily for you, the crown has a number of fine steeds, one of which you can borrow for the day. Over here is Silver Star, and over there is Autumn’s Ember.”

“Why is Silver Star brown and Autumn’s Ember grey?”

“Our stable master has a perverse sense of humour.”

“So are these the loaner horses?”

“They are indeed. Any preference?”

Silver Star looked unnervingly unreliable. They reminded me of an equine Maxwell. “I’ll go for Autumn’s Ember.”

Liam smiled. “A good choice.”

Just then there was a small commotion outside. It drew nearer, and suddenly the King entered the stables with Maxwell trailing him, trying to grab his attention. 

“If you’ll hear me out, I can explain the finer points of freestyle dancing.” 

“Lord Maxwell, if you’ll please allow me to inspect my horse.” 

“At least let me recommend some videos,” Maxwell called eagerly after him. 

“Father,” said Liam, greeting Constantine with a smile. 

I dipped into a curtsy. “Your Majesty.”

The King smiled. “Liam, and Lady Estella, who looks absolutely sporting.”

“Thank you, Sir."

“Ready for the ride today?”

I nodded. “I am now.”

Constantine smiled. “We’ll see you shortly, then.”

I curtsied politely once more. Grabbing the reins, I led Autumn’s Ember out of the stables. Maxwell fell into step beside me.

“Sorry Estella, I could only hold the king off for so long!”

I looked at Maxwell sceptically. “Freestyle dancing? _Really_?”

“I panicked.”

I smiled in bemusement. “Still, good effort.”

Maxwell looked genuinely happy. “Yay! I helped out after all.”

***

“How are you always the last to arrive, Estella?” Olivia hissed suspiciously as I took my place beside her. I just smiled infuriatingly. We both knew I’d been with Liam. 

King Constantine strode forward. “Please join me on this special day when we honour the rich history of those who came before us.”

There was a flurry of activity as the nobles and suitors mounted their steeds. Autumn Ember was a good choice of horse. They seemed calm. 

“Let us ride!” King Constantine called, leading the group out onto the trail.”

Soon after clearing through the forest, we found ourselves winding through a mountain trail. Maxwell and Bertrand fell behind, deep in discussion. At the head of the trail rode Liam and the King and Queen. Madeleine rode next to them, laughing at the King’s asinine childhood story. 

“And that’s how I rescued Liam from the visiting delegation’s border collie.”

“You enjoy that story too much.”

“I wanted to commission a painting of the dog nipping at your heels, but your mother thought it would be too humiliating.”

Madeleine gave a trill laugh. “It’s such a sweet story. Please tell me more about the Prince when he was younger.” 

Olivia rode up alongside me. “I can’t believe Madeleine. She’s playing dirty, using her friendship with the Queen to spend time with Prince Liam. I want to wipe that smug look off her face."

I shrugged. “We’re all as bad as each other. The way I see it, she’s competing like the rest of us.”

Olivia glared at me. “You don’t know her like I do. She’s vicious. You’ll regret trusting her.”

I laughed. “I definitely don’t _trust_ her. She plays nice, but it’s just an act.” 

Olivia nodded. “Good. I’m not the only one who sees through her.”

I raised an eyebrow. “You should give me _some_ credit, Olivia.”

Olivia looked at me seriously for a moment. “Keep your eyes open, Estella.” She moved out toward the front of the group. 

“Brook!” Drake waved me over to him. I slowed my horse down and let the others pass before moving back in line next to him. ”There you are. You look… uh, very dignified today.”

I opened my mouth in faux surprise. “Oh my gosh! Opening with a compliment?” _Why did everyone approve of this outfit apart from Bertrand Beaumont?_

Drake chuckled. “Careful, don’t want you falling off your horse now.” Unsurprisingly, Drake was dressed in his usual denim. No tweed or jodhpurs for him. 

“I’m surprised you’re out here with all the nobles today.”

He shrugged. “Turns out, I had an opening in my schedule. And there’s something oddly satisfying about watching nobles fuss over their stuffy blazers.”

“I happen to _like_ my stuffy blazer. Anyway, is this why you’re not frowning? Not as much as usual, anyway.”

Another shrug. “It has more to do with the company I keep.”

“A second compliment!”

“One more and you win the jackpot.”

I smirked. “I hope it’s all your whiskey. I’d take great pleasure in drinking it in front of you, and I don’t even particularly like whiskey.”

Drake smiled and sighed. “You know, when we first met, I wanted to hate you so badly.”

I quirked an eyebrow. “Surely not!?”

“Heh. I guess I wasn’t subtle about it, was I?”

“Subtle like a freight train.”

He considered. “Well, that was a while ago. Somewhere along the way… things changed.” He frowned slightly. “Hell, Brook, I don’t even know why I’m telling you any of this.”

I wasn’t entirely sure what he was trying to say. It wasn’t exactly a declaration of feelings, but it felt more than friendly. I tried to keep the conversation light. “Drake, I’m too adorable to dislike.”

“Fair enough.”

“You think I’m adorable?” _Stop flirting, Estella._

“I’m saying you’re allowed to believe that you’re adorable.”

“You think I’m cute, admit it.” _That’s still flirting._

“I’ve made a terrible mistake.” Drake shook his head, but he was smiling. “This has all been touching, but I need to rescue Liam from his family for a couple of minutes.”

Drake rode ahead, leaving me to fall to the back of the line with Maxwell and Bertrand. Annoyingly, I didn’t catch much of their conversation, but it was obvious from the Duke’s tone that he was unhappy. 

“… Do I make myself clear?”

“Yeah…” Maxwell replied forlornly. 

Bertrand rode away from us without even glancing at me. I raised an eyebrow at Maxwell. “What was all that about?”

Maxwell didn’t quite meet my eyes. “Oh, you know, estate things… the consequences of failure and eternal ruin of our family name and fortune." 

“I see…”

He finally met my gaze, his usual smile returning. “Just the usual, really.”

I examined him curiously. “You seem weirdly chipper though.”

Maxwell nodded. “I don’t think we’re going to fail! You and Liam are getting close.” He glanced meaningfully at Liam. “Even when he’s busy talking to his family, he sneaks glances back at you.”

I grinned. “Maxwell, the crown will be mine."

He chuckled. “You should say that kind of stuff more often when Bertrand’s around.”

“There’s no fun in that, Maxwell. It's far more entertaining if he thinks I’m an unreliable chaos gremlin.”

Maxwell shook his head with a smile. “I think he’s starting to realise that you know what you’re doing.”

I glanced over to Bertrand. He was riding alongside King Constantine, the pair deep in conversation. “You know, for someone who doesn’t like the outdoors, he looks confident on a horse.”

Maxwell nodded. “We both had extensive riding lessons as children. It wasn’t something Bertrand really had any say in. As the heir, Dad ensured he mastered _all_ of the requisite courtly skills.”

“I see. It sounds a bit like Hana and her parents.”

Maxwell nodded thoughtfully. “I suspect there were some similarities.” He looked at me earnestly. “Our dad meant well though. He just wanted the best for us.”

The trail led us through the mountain pass. Eventually it arrived at a small village dominated by a large hunting lodge. 

Maxwell smiled. “We’re coming up on our stop.”

***

King Constantine led the group to a halt, addressing the assembled nobles. “Everyone, we’ve reached our hunting lodges. Our forebears would dine on the day’s hunt here, and though we no longer hunt, we will still have a great feast. But first, we race to celebrate our ancestors.” Liam led his mare to the trees across the village. “The first to reach Prince Liam will be served first at the feast!”

Perhaps unsurprisingly, Hana effortlessly won the race. A beaming Constantine stepped forward to congratulate her. “That’s superb horsemanship in action! The first plate will be for Lady Hana! Now, then. Let’s all take some time to rest. The feast will be served in an hour.” 

All of the riders dismounted and let the grooms take care of the horses. In the shuffle, I found myself next to Tariq. I hadn’t spoken to him since Lythikos. 

“Ah, Lady Estella,” he smiled at me, flashing perfect white teeth.

“Tariq? It’s been so long. How was your ride?”

“It was a long journey, but I happen to own a pair of boots as soft as a newborn kitten.”

“That’s an unpleasant thought.”

He smiled, obviously unperturbed by my response. “I can only hope your ride was at least half as comfortable.”

“I could do that entire ride again right now!” I couldn’t, I was tired, but I wasn’t remotely interested in discussing my sore backside with Tariq. 

He gave me another toothy grin. “You’re certainly impressive.”

“Thanks.”

To my relief and delight, Prince Liam tapped Tariq on the shoulder. “Tariq, may I have a word with Lady Estella?”

Tariq bowed politely. “Of course, Prince Liam. Lady Estella, I hope our paths cross again.” I hoped they wouldn’t. There was something about Tariq that made me slightly uncomfortable, even if I couldn’t identify exactly _what_. I quickly dismissed the thought, focusing my attention on Liam.

Liam smiled warmly at me. “Finding a moment is harder with all these people around.” 

“I’m glad you chose to spend that rare moment with me.”

“Me too."

Drake, Maxwell, and Hana came to join me and Liam, promptly interrupting the moment. 

“I am so ready for the feast,” said Drake, looking around eagerly at the ongoing preparations. 

“ _And_ they’ve got dishes supposedly blessed by the spirits of the nearby ruins,” Maxwell added enthusiastically.

Hana’s face lit up. “Oooh! I’ve heard legends about those ruins! They sound magical. People travel from all around just to see them.”

Liam nodded. “They’re very close. It’s a shame we’re not scheduled to see them.”

Hana’s face fell. “We aren’t? I was so hoping to…”

“Why don’t we just go anyway?” Maxwell suggested. 

Liam smiled at Maxwell’s obvious eagerness, turning to me hopefully. “It would be nice to spend some time together without this crowd around. What do you say, Estella?”

I beamed at him. “Let’s have an adventure!”

***

  
  


Liam led our group through the valley. We walked about half a mile through the forest before reaching a clearing. The ruined remains of various ancient buildings and temples jutted out amidst the undergrowth. 

Hana smiled. “It’s so beautiful and serene.”

Drake predictably scowled. “Yep… sure are a bunch of old things here.” I wondered why he’d even bothered tagging along. 

Liam shook his head in amusement. “It’s so much more than that. There’s something so calm about this place. Can’t you sense it?”

Despite his initial enthusiasm, Maxwell seemed sceptical too. “The only thing I sense is about a million snakes and probably a couple of rock monsters getting ready to attack us.”

I rolled my eyes. “Well _I_ want to take it all in. We haven’t got long before the feast.”

Hana and I made our way into the ruins, while the guys dispersed in different directions. We stopped to examine a worn and faded mosaic of a series of vines and flowers. 

“I can’t believe it’s survived all these years," said Hana quietly.

“Well, survive as much as one can.”

Hana smiled at me. “Isn’t that all any of us can strive for? Think of how beautiful it must’ve been in its time.”

“This still looks beautiful to me.”

Hana nodded, running her fingers along the mosaic’s stone border. “I wonder if anything I do will last this long. Would I be like this artist? Or maybe I’d have a poem written about me. Though there isn’t much to say about me, I suppose.” She sounded sad and wistful. It was apparent that she didn't see herself the way the rest of the world did.

I gave her a reassuring smile. “Hana, you could get a poem about your journey. You’ve travelled from a far off land in search of love.”

She smiled. “I suppose I have, and lucky for me I found a friend in you along the way." She looked at me anxiously. "I’m sorry I didn’t ride with you today. Penelope and Kiara wanted to talk.”

“That’s okay, Hana. Are you getting on well?”

She nodded. “Since the three of us have really fallen out of the running, we’ve become a little friendlier with each other.” She smiled. “My parents would think of them as _political_ _alliances_ …”

We both shivered. It was surprisingly cold in the shaded ruins. “I’m going to find the others, are you coming?”

Hana shook her head. “I’m just going to take some photos. I’ll catch up with you later.”

I stumbled across Drake next, almost literally. He was slumped against one of the tree roots covering a temple.

“Hey, Brook.”

I had to laugh. “You look like you’re having a good time exploring.”

He shrugged. “Archaeology isn’t really my thing.” 

I raised an eyebrow. “You could at least look around. It’s not like you come here often.”

He glanced around at our surroundings. “I looked around. There’s some old buildings. That’s about it.” 

“So why did you come out here if you don’t really care for these sorts of things?”

He looked at me thoughtfully, his shoulders hunched. “I don’t think we’re going to get many more times like this.”

“Like what?”

He sighed. “I mean, Liam is going to be king soon, and you could very well be his queen. _Everything’s_ going to change.” 

I nodded. “You know… You’re right. We don’t need to associate with the riff-raff." I looked at him meaningfully. "I mean, really, what could _you_ even provide for us? A sense of grounding and humility?”

He raised an eyebrow. “I see what you’re trying to do here. It’s not going to work.” He sighed again. “Look, what I was trying to say earlier, Brook, is that we may have had some ups and downs between us, but I want you to know that I’ve enjoyed this little adventure with you. Not just the ruins, but the whole thing since I walked into your bar in New York." He met my eyes seriously. "You’re… you’re not bad.”

I had to smile. “Drake. You’re my friend as well.” 

He frowned. “I didn’t say that! I didn’t mean…”

“I heard what you said, and I know what you _meant_.”

"You don’t play fair.”

“I play to win, Drake.”

He chuckled. "Go and find Liam, Brook. I imagine we'll need to head back soon."

***

I walked over to Liam, finding him gazing up at a temple in contemplation.

"These ruins are amazing."

He turned to me with a smile. "They’re beautiful, aren’t they? To be standing among buildings that contain such history."

"There’s certainly a sense of awe to it."

He nodded. "Father likes to remind me of our history. I think as he’s gotten older, he’s become more concerned with his place in it."

I examined him thoughtfully. It was obvious that he was ruminating again. "It probably makes _you_ think, too."

He looked at me seriously. "It does. Soon, the crown will be placed on my head, and some historian will record the beginning of King Liam’s reign. What kind of legacy will I leave?

"Liam, whichever one you choose. Your actions will determine what people think." I gave him a warm smile. "For the record, I think you’ll do great."

"Thanks, Estella. But I can’t help but wonder… what moniker would they give me? King Liam the Bold? King Liam the Wise?"

I raised a playful eyebrow. "King Liam the Sexy?"

He laughed. "That’d be a historical first."

"Well, I’d _love_ to see that in textbooks."

Liam smiled at me, visibly relaxing. "This is what I love about you, Estella. One minute, I can feel the weight of all of Cordonia on my shoulders… And then with you by my side, I don’t feel the weight, I feel the _possibility_. I feel capable of anything. I should have known that you’re the only person who could turn all of this around." 

"Liam, we can do anything together. We’re an unstoppable team."

"That we are." He tenderly cupped my face, his eyes locked on mine. 

"Liam, I could stay here all night." 

"Me too… but we don’t have long before the feast. We should gather the others soon."

I met his lips in a gentle kiss. "I'll go and find Maxwell. You should go and save Drake from dying of boredom."

"Thank you, Estella."

It occurred to me that my interactions with Liam were becoming increasingly tender. We were beginning to act like a couple. It was slowly starting to sink in that _I could really be Cordonia's next queen._

***

It took me a little while to locate Maxwell. He'd wandered away from the ruins, and I found him standing by the bank of a river. He skipped a rock downstream as I approached him. 

"Not a bad toss."

He shrugged. "Five skips is my record. It’s not much, but it’s respectable. Want to give it a try?"

"Sure."

He looked at me seriously. "The trick is to clear your mind and become one with the rock. It is an extension of your will." 

I carefully threw the rock. It skipped across the water six times before sinking into the river.

"Most impressive," said Maxwell. 

"The student has surpassed the master." Maxwell picked up another rock and skimmed it across the river. I looked at him thoughtfully. "You know, I don’t really know all that much about you." 

He didn't meet my eyes. "There’s not really much to know." 

"Really? I’ve seen you talk about yourself for hours at our social events." 

"That’s just, y’know, small talk. Nothing real."

"Then tell me something real."

He looked at me uncomfortably, as if nervous about what I might ask. "What do you want to know?"

"What was it like growing up with Bertrand?"

He relaxed visibly. I wondered what he'd been expecting. "He was grumpy and frowny all the time. Legend has it he was born with a scowl on his face."

I raised an eyebrow sceptically. "Really?"

Maxwell smiled. "Okay, I’m just joking." He skimmed another stone across the river. "He always looked out for me, but he also got me into plenty of trouble. But we had a lot of fun. Probably too much." 

I still struggled to reconcile this portrait of Bertrand with the grumpy man I knew. "He sounds so different from now."

Maxwell sighed. "Hardship changes people." He gazed out across the river, a frown creeping over his face. 

"Do you miss the way things were for your house?"

He looked back at me. "You mean the wealth, the fame, and the endless parties?"

"I guess when you put it like that…"

Maxwell considered for a moment. "I _do_ miss those things, but… I miss Bertrand’s happiness most of all. He took pride in the status and tending to the affairs of our house. He feels personally responsible for our current fall from grace, and it pains him everyday."

"Why would he feel responsible?"

"Because he's too hard on himself."

"You really care for him." 

He looked at me sadly. "Of course I do, he’s my brother." He shrugged. "But there’s no need to dwell too much on it. Hopefully things will improve for House Beaumont soon." He smiled at me encouragingly. "Things seem to be going well for you and Liam."

"They are, but what about you, Maxwell? Have you ever loved someone before?" I wasn't going to let him move the conversation away from himself so easily.

Maxwell's eyes widened slightly. "Oh… you don’t play around with these questions, do you?"

"I do not."

Maxwell bit his lip, glancing away from me. "Well, Bertrand’s the more eligible between the two of us. _He’s_ the Duke of Ramsford, after all." For a brief moment, I wondered if there was a hint of sadness to his tone, but it was gone in an instant. "I’ve always kind of thought I’d figure things out once he was married. But I don’t think Bertrand’s any closer to getting married."

I nodded. "Okay, I’ve got one final question for you. Tell me, why did you decide to sponsor me?"

He looked at me earnestly. "I saw something in you that I thought Cordonia needed… Hope." 

"Hope?" I asked uncertainly. 

He nodded. "Well, the way Liam looked at you. I’ve _never_ seen him look at anyone that way. And he’s a really good guy. Maybe the best person I know. I think he deserves a shot at being really happy, even if he is the Prince." Maxwell glanced down at his phone. "Anyway, we should be getting back soon. Where’s everyone else?"

We made our way back to the others, heading toward the feast.

"That was lovely," said Hana enthusiastically. 

"There weren’t any ghosts," said Maxwell gloomily. 

Hana looked at him in confusion. "Why are you even sad about that?"

Maxwell shrugged. "I don’t know, I’m kind of curious what a ghost would have to say. Would’ve made a good story."

"You can always lie," said Drake. "I’ll back you up."

"There’s an idea!"

I raised an eyebrow. "Maxwell, you’d lie?

He nodded enthusiastically. "Entertaining people is more important than telling the truth." 

Hana considered. "Isn’t all fiction just a form of lying?"

"In a way…" said Liam. 

"But at least then you _know_ it isn’t real," I pointed out. "I think Maxwell just needs to put more effort into actually finding a real ghost next time."

Maxwell looked at me sadly. "You don't ask much do you, Estella?"

***

Later that night, the group made the return trip to Applewood Manor. Hana once again rode with Penelope and Kiara. Drake and Maxwell were at Liam’s side. I found myself alongside Bertrand. He was obviously reluctant to make conversation. 

“I presume you vanished to visit the ruins?” He asked eventually.

“Didn’t you want to join us?”

“Absolutely not. Someone from House Beaumont needed to remain with the court.”

I raised an eyebrow. “You just can’t stand to be around me or Maxwell.”

He didn't look at me. “I highly doubt that you were longing for my company.”

“I don’t know.” He turned to me in obvious surprise, so I shrugged. “I suspect you know more about archaeology than Maxwell or Drake.”

“That may be correct.” He turned away. "Anyway, I have no time for such foolish nonsense."

I rolled my eyes. “Are you always so morose?"

"Do I need to remind you that the reputation of my house is at risk?"

"Maxwell manages to be cheerful.”

Bertrand sighed wearily. “It is a self-defence mechanism. By refusing to acknowledge the gravity of the situation, Maxwell shields himself from taking any responsibility for it.” We sank into silence, I couldn't see his expression in the dark, but he was obviously troubled. 

After a long journey along the trail, it was a relief to spot the manor’s welcoming window-light through the darkness. 

"That was a long ride," I said, breaking the silence. 

"For once, I agree with you," Bertrand replied wearily. 

Maxwell rode up alongside us. "It was getting dark too. Good thing the last part of the trail had lights."

I smiled as we reached the Applewood grounds. "But now I can soak in a tub for the rest of my life."

“Or… until the country jamboree starts tomorrow!” Maxwell’s face lit up. “Hope you’re ready for another paaarrrtttyyyyy!”

Bertrand groaned. "This is how I die…”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Song lyrics at the start of this chapter are from In for the Kill by La Roux.
> 
> I feel like this is one of the more uneventful TRR1 chapters. Aside from the conversation with Maxwell at the ruins about House Beaumont, and the extremely brief conversation with Olivia about Madeleine, I don't feel like much of note really happens. Or is that just me? Hmm.


	14. Fair Game

**Content Warning** : Please be aware that this chapter contains references to and a description of sexual assault. Please be kind to yourself and skip this one if it might upset you.

_I'm a rat in a trap,_

_Correction:_

_I'm the cheese_

  
  


_Stupid horse riding_. The morning after the Royal Hunt, I woke up with aches in places I didn’t even know _could_ ache. 

After lunch, the corks were already being popped for the jamboree festivities. Waiters offered out trays of wine and champagne as I made my way back to my room to change. I passed Tariq, Penelope and Kiara examining some paintings, bubbling glasses in their hands.

“As you can see,” said Tariq, on prime mansplaining form, “this painting is reminiscent of Rembrandt’s style during the Dutch Golden Age.” _It wasn’t_. 

“The still-life declares that the mundane and the everyday are worthy of the status of high art,” said Kiara thoughtfully, ignoring his attempts to impress them.

“I wish they had more poodles,” said Penelope sadly. I wondered if Tariq was about to launch into a factually inaccurate lecture about canines in art. But before I could find out, I was discovered by the Beaumont brothers, who seemed to have perfected the skill of suddenly materialising wherever I went. 

“Ohh, looks like they broke out the drinks early for this event…”

Bertrand moved his brother’s outstretched hand away from a tray of champagne. “ _Focus_ , Maxwell, we don’t have time for party antics.”

Maxwell sighed, gazing wistfully at the retreating waitress. “But I have so many new tricks.”

I lowered my voice. “Besides, what’s the point of a party unless you have Prince Liam securely beside you?”

Bertrand nodded approvingly, looking sternly from me to Maxwell. “ _Precisely_. I’m glad at least one of you is able to stay focused on the objective.” He examined me seriously. “First order of business, make Estella presentable for the country jamboree.”

I smirked at him. “Actually, I happen to think I’m naturally presentable.”

Bertrand simply raised an eyebrow in response. “Today’s events are charmingly rustic… games on the lawn and dinner in the gardens. Find something suitable yet elegant.”

“Why don’t you come with me while I change?” I suggested innocently, managing to keep a straight face. “You can sneer at all my clothes.”

To my gratified amusement, he looked somewhat alarmed by the suggestion. “ _I_ have business to attend to. Maxwell will accompany you.”

“Off we go,” said Maxwell cheerfully.

***

I changed out of my jeans and blouse and into a cream, floral dress that Maxwell had recommended. “Is this really going to be appropriate for lawn games?” I asked sceptically as I stepped out from my en-suite bathroom.

Maxwell beamed approvingly. “I think it’s ideal!”

I quickly fluffed up my hair and applied some lip gloss. “Hmm. So I’m ready to go?”

“Darn tootin’.”

“Probably don’t say that again.”

He grimaced. “Yep, Knew it was a mistake as soon as I said it.”

On our way outside we passed Hana in a corridor. She was hunched up over her phone, clearly absorbed. From her tone and body language, it didn’t seem like the conversation was going well. It sounded as if she was breaking the news to her parents that she was unlikely to be Liam’s choice. I didn't want to intrude, but I gently squeezed her hand as we passed, and she gave me a sad, grateful smile.

"Jeeze, poor Hana," said Maxwell sadly once we were out of earshot. "Her parents don't sound like much fun."

"I think that's a fair assessment." I always felt a twinge of guilt when I thought about Hana's situation. If I were Liam's choice, which felt more likely with each passing day, I knew that Hana would inevitably be disappointed. 

Outside the Manor, nobles were spread around the sunlit lawns, eating strawberries and playing various lawn games. _Was a floral dress really the best option for these activities?_ _Oh well, who was I to question Beaumont wisdom?_ Lamenting the lack of music, Maxwell naturally gravitated toward the most dangerous of the available activities: _archery_.

“You think they’ll let me shoot an apple off someone’s head?”

“No.”

His face fell. “Oh well, no harm in asking.”

I didn’t feel like joining Maxwell at the archery range, so I gazed around in search of a friendly face. Liam was engaged in conversation with his parents and Madeleine, so there was no sense approaching him. There was no sign of Drake. I didn’t imagine a twee lawn party was his preferred environment. 

I spotted Bertrand standing in a corner of the gardens, a glass of white wine in his hand. “So, is this you partying?” I asked innocently as I approached him. 

He raised an eyebrow in response. “Shouldn’t you be talking to Prince Liam?”

“He’s busy with his parents and Madeleine.” I helped myself to a glass of champagne from a passing waiter. “What do _you_ even do at all these events? Glower and mutter in a dark corner? Because I thought Drake had that market cornered.”

“I do not lurk in dark corners.” He brushed his jacket collar. “I have spent the entire social season seeking out tactical alliances for the benefit of House Beaumont. Today I have been working since six AM, seeking to secure investment in our vineyards.”

I suppose I had to admit that he was at least a hard worker. “I see... Is Maxwell any assistance?” We both looked across to where Maxwell was trying to persuade the archery instructor to let him take a turn blindfolded. I shook my head. “Never mind, I withdraw the question.”

Bertrand sighed wearily, then examined me thoughtfully. “How is your relationship with Prince Liam progressing?”

I sipped my drink. “I think it’s safe to say that if the decision was solely his, we could all celebrate.” I glanced over to where Madeleine had tipped back her head to laugh with exaggerated glee at whatever King Constantine had just said. “It’s his parents, the leading courtiers and the press I need to win over now.” 

Bertrand followed my gaze. “I have some news that might help you in that regard.”

“Oh?”

“Ramsford has just been confirmed as the next venue to host the social season. In a week’s time, the entire court will be moving to our estate for two days.”

I looked at him in surprise. “Won't that be something of a financial drain?”

He frowned. “Yes, _of course_. But if we back out, we might as well announce in the daily paper that we’re officially ruined.”

“I see. _Tricky_.”

“Anyway,” he turned to look at me, “ _this_ time, you’ll have all the advantages of hosting the royal court.”

“Because I’ll be in the same position Olivia was in Lythikos?”

He nodded. “Precisely. You’ll be able to set the seating arrangements, have first claim on the Prince, and dictate the rules of the evening.”

“ _I_ or _we_?”

He almost smiled. “I hope you will at least consider my advice.”

“I’ll think about it... Didn’t the other houses want to host the court?”

“Of course. House Amaranth in particular tried to sway matters in their favour, but the King has chosen to honour House Beaumont, as per tradition.”

I looked at him curiously. “What did you say to persuade him?”

“I believe _Prince Liam_ had the final say.”

“Ahh.” With a small smile, I glanced over to where Liam stood talking to his parents. 

“Why don’t we go for a walk?” Bertrand suggested suddenly. 

“Oh?” I asked in surprise. 

He sighed. “I believe that you were right to question my behaviour after the Apple Queen festivities. It _is_ best if we present a united front.”

“So you’ll try to be less sceptical of me?”

Another _almost_ smile. “At least publicly.”

We walked along the side of the hedge maze, with Bertrand discreetly pointing out any nobles that I might not recognise. It was a warm day, so he’d actually swapped the sweater vest for a shirt and tie. His smoky cologne contrasted pleasantly with the fresh spring air. “So, we have another week at Applewood, then several days at your estate. Then we return to the Palace?”

He nodded. "We're reaching the most crucial stage of the social season."

We stopped. Voices were audible from inside the maze. “That’s Lady Kiara’s voice,” I said quietly. 

“The King and Queen seem quite taken with you today, Lady Madeleine.”

“They respect my opinion. And I believe we have a lot in common. I hope I’ll have the support of all the ladies at court if I’m chosen.” Her satisfied smirk was audible in her smug tone. 

“To tell you the truth…” Penelope’s voice, “I think Lady Estella may be the one to be chosen, and I think she’d be a wonderful queen.”

“Well, I suppose you’re entitled to your opinion,” Madeleine was obviously irritated. “What do you think, Lady Kiara?”

“It’s all up to the Prince, isn’t it? And I believe that he favours Lady Estella.” _Ha, take that Madeleine,_ I thought gleefully.

“That’s disappointing to hear, but not entirely surprising. We’ll see how things turn out…”

Their voices moved off further into the maze. I turned to Bertrand to gauge his reaction. “Well?”

“Promising, Lady Estella. This is definitely promising.” Coming from Duke Doomsday, that was a declaration of confidence.

I finished my champagne and set the empty glass down on a table. “You know, I think you might actually believe in me."

His grey eyes met mine. “Stranger things have happened, but don't count your apple crop before checking for scrumping squirrels."

I sighed. "You had to bring apples into this, didn’t you?”

"As an aspiring queen, you ought to be aware of the common Cordonian idioms.”

I raised an eyebrow. "Even the ridiculous ones?"

His eyes narrowed. "You really can be extremely infuriating."

"Speak for yourself, _Your_ _Grace_."

We stood still and just glared at each other. For a wild and unexpected moment, I _really_ wanted him to kiss me. I wanted to mess up his stupid hair, find out whether he’d implode if I ruffled his damn tie or undid the top button of his immaculate shirt. He quickly snapped his eyes away from mine and cleared his throat. “Anyway, I should go and pursue the betterment of House Beaumont.” He abruptly walked off without glancing back at me.

I watched him go, wondering what the hell was wrong with me. I was falling in love with a handsome prince. I shouldn't be standing around in a garden making eyes at a man I could barely tolerate. _Clearly I'd had too much champagne_. I chose not to acknowledge the fact that I’d only had a single glass. 

***

I made my way through the gardens, stopping when I spotted Hana. She was sitting on a bench overlooking the gardens, her expression wistful. I sat down quietly next to her, and she looked up at me with a small smile. “Hello, Estella. How are you finding the jamboree?”

 _So far I’ve mostly just experienced unexpected sexual attraction to a man I don’t even like._ “It’s fine. I’ve mostly just chatted to Bertrand. Is everything okay, Hana?”

"I had a difficult phone call."

I looked at her sympathetically. "I'm sorry to hear that... It didn't sound like an easy conversation."

She nodded thoughtfully, but then she smiled. “You won’t believe it, Estella. I stood up to her! I told my mother that I was making myself miserable doing everything that she wanted and that I needed to finally figure out what was right for _me_.”

“I’m impressed, Hana! How did she react?”

Hana sighed, her smile wavering. “I hung up before she could really reply. Honestly, I can’t quite believe I did it. She’s going to be so furious!”

I gently squeezed her hand. “She’ll come around. Just give her some time. You’re not being unreasonable.”

Hana nodded. “Maybe you’re right. I need to stay strong, even when she pushes back.” She looked around contemplatively at the lawn games. “The hardest part will be figuring out what _I_ want to do with my life.”

I met her eyes. “I know the feeling, Hana. I suppose if I am Liam’s choice, the decision will be made for me." I sighed. "But if I’m not, it’s back to the drawing board for project ‘what does Estella do with her life’.”

Hana gave me an encouraging smile. “Well, we can figure it out together."

We stood up, helping ourselves to drinks from a nearby display. “We could launch a fashion start-up and make sustainable handbags."

“There’s an idea," said Hana cheerfully. "Could they be apple print to commemorate our time in Cordonia?"

“Absolutely."

She considered. "I wonder if we could make the bags _from_ apples. Recycle some of the spoiled apple crop." 

"If anyone can figure out how to make fashionable handbags from apples, it's you, Hana."

We were interrupted by the arrival of Prince Liam. He looked as handsome as ever, a wide smile on his face. “Lady Estella, Lady Hana, would you join me for a game of ring toss?”

Hana and I exchanged a smile. “Absolutely.”

“You seem happy here at Applewood,” Hana said to Liam with a smile as we collected our rings, taking aim at the pegs set into the lawn. 

Liam nodded. “The manor has a special place in my heart. My brother and I used to come here often as children. The rules were a bit more relaxed here.”

I smiled. “So you only had formal dinners every _other_ night?”

He chuckled. "Pretty much. My brother and I were allowed to wear plain clothes and run rampant in the hillside. When we were here, we didn’t have to worry about photographers or curious Cordonians trying to get a glimpse of us. For a short time we were allowed to just be children.”

Hana nodded sympathetically. “I can understand why that was liberating.” 

“It sounds like you didn't get much of a childhood, Liam,” I said gently.

He sighed. “Outside of this place, perhaps not. We had to learn from an early age not to fidget at courtly dinners and how to impress ambassadors. This was our one refuge. I never wanted to leave." He smiled nostalgically. "Once, when I was very young, I hid in the basement when it was time to go. My brother and parents had to search the entire grounds to find me.”

“Aww…”

"Did you get into trouble?" Hana asked anxiously. 

Liam grinned. "I would’ve been in a great deal of trouble… except my brother took all the blame. He told my parents that we’d been playing hide-and-seek and he simply couldn’t find me. So they scolded him for starting a game too close to the time we were meant to leave, but they couldn’t do much else.”

“What a good big brother,” said Hana. "I wish I had a sibling," she added wistfully. Every time she talked about her childhood I got the impression it must have been extremely lonely.

Liam nodded. “He’s always looking out for me. He told me that he was always in trouble anyway, so a little more didn’t matter. ‘A duck in the pond doesn’t mind the rain,’ he said, ‘it’s already wet.’"

I smiled. "He sounds like a character."

Liam nodded. “Someday, I hope you'll both get to meet my brother…” His eyes lingered on mine. 

“I’d like that," I said quietly. 

Hana glanced between us with a conspiratorial smile. “I’m going to investigate the croquet. Why don’t you two have a rematch?”

As Hana walked away, Liam leaned closer to me. “You look lovely today, Lady Estella.”

“You don’t look bad yourself, Liam.” I threw my final ring, hitting the centre peg. “You know… This has been fun, but I was hoping for some time… _alone_ with you.”

His eyes sparkled as they met mine. “I’m always hoping for time alone with you, Lady Estella.” He moved in closer to me so that there was no risk of us being overheard. “I’m unlikely to be able to escape the court today, but tomorrow would you join me for a walk in the gardens? I would love to show you the hedge maze.”

I smiled playfully. “I’m sure I can free up some time for a guided tour.”

Liam quickly kissed me cheek, stepping a discreet distance away as we were approached by two nobles.

***

Leaving Liam to his duties, I returned to the other lawn games. Olivia was watching Penelope and Kiara play badminton. “Couldn’t you find anyone willing to play with you?” I asked as she glared at my approach.

She wrinkled her nose. “As if I’d risk getting sweaty and dishevelled before dinner. Any fool knows not to engage in combat immediately prior to a formal social event.”

“So you’re not willing to play against me?”

She glowered at me, clearly considering it. “I’m surprised you’re willing to challenge your betters.”

I shrugged. “What can I say? I’ve never been afraid of taking risks.”

She snorted, picking up a racket and tossing one to me. We took the court next to Penelope and Kiara. It quickly became apparent that we were a frustratingly even match, neither of us seizing an advantage. It was also difficult to play and remain dignified while wearing a damn dress. As the game wore on, Olivia glared at me from across the net. She looked about ready to stab me. 

I smiled infuriatingly at her. “You know, it’s not going to be subtle if you kill me with a badminton racket.”

“Ha, as if I’d resort to such a blunt instrument.”

The bells chimed for dinner. I turned to Olivia with a smirk. “Saved by the bell.”

***

As the guests assembled for dinner, I bumped into someone as I manoeuvred my way through the crowd. “Oh, Tariq! I apologise…”

He turned to me with a toothy smile. “It’s nothing. Really, Lady Estella, it’s always a pleasure to see you.”

I took an instinctive step away from him. He was still standing a little too close. “Tariq, how have you been?”

He moved toward me again, clearly not taking the hint. “As splendid as you look, my dear.”

I stepped away from him again. “Uh, thanks?” I purposefully didn’t smile. I found his tone rather sinister. 

He didn’t seem at all perturbed by my lack of enthusiasm. “It fills me with such joy to hear you say that. You know, I have to tell you, after speaking with the other ladies here, I find myself having such an...appreciation for you.” . 

_Gross_. “Really?” 

“Yes. You’re a breath of fresh, New York air.”

“I don’t think anyone says that.”

“Ahem,” Bertrand had appeared at Tariq’s shoulder. “Lady Estella, allow me to show you to your seat for dinner.” I wondered if he was trying to rescue me from Tariq’s company or just reprimand me for being late. With Bertrand Beaumont it was impossible to really tell. Still, I gratefully accepted his outstretched arm. 

Tariq’s face fell, his eyes lingering on mine. “Until we meet again, Lady Estella.”

***

After dinner, I joined Hana for hot chocolate before returning to my bedroom. I’d just taken off my dress to change for bed when, to my horror, my bedroom door opened. Tariq stepped confidently into my room. He leaned back against my door with a delighted smirk. “Good lord! Estella, disrobing in my room… what a deliciously forward gesture!”

My heart pounded uncomfortably in my chest. Tariq had always made me feel uneasy, but something about his triumphant smile, and his positioning of himself against my only exit, made me deeply uneasy. I felt like a mouse cornered by a python. 

I took a deep breath. “I think there’s been some confusion. This _definitely_ isn’t your room.”

His smile only widened. “Please, don’t misunderstand. I’m not upset. I’m just surprised. I suspected, but I never thought this would happen so soon…”

As I reached for my clothes, Tariq made his move. He sprung forwards and grabbed my arm in a tight grip so that I couldn’t reach my dress. I let out a startled scream as he painfully grasped my hand and placed it against his heart. I raised my voice as much as I could, hoping someone would overhear. “What the hell do you think you’re--” He placed his other hand tightly over my mouth. _I knew that I was in real danger._

He smirked at me. “No you _must_ let me speak! Your feelings are most ardently returned. You’ve thoroughly enchanted me, just as you enchant everyone you come across… and now I know you feel the same way about me.”

I struggled to get away, but he pulled me flush against him. I felt a wave of nausea as I realised that he was aroused. He released his hand from my mouth, attempting to forcibly kiss me as I fought to escape his grip. The whole ordeal could only have lasted seconds, but it felt like hours. 

Suddenly, the bedroom door was thrown open. “Get away from her!” _Never had I been so glad to see Drake Walker_. Drake grabbed Tariq by the shoulder and pulled him away from me, angrier than I’d ever seen him. 

Tariq’s eyes blazed as he turned from me to Drake. “Unhand me! How dare you enter my room without my permission!” He hit Drake squarely in the face. Drake reeled back for a second, then tackled him to the floor. I watched in horror, still too shocked to intervene. The two men grappled intensely, exchanging punches before rolling apart. 

“Who the hell do you think you are bursting into my room?” Tariq demanded furiously.

Drake took a menacing step toward him. “This is _Estella’s_ room, and I heard screams. I’m pretty damn sure she wanted interrupting.”

“I want him the hell out of here,” I said, glaring at Tariq. I was so scared and angry that my voice shook as I spoke. I wanted to shout, but I could barely muster more than a whisper. Drake took a protective step toward me. 

Tariq’s eyes widened in astonishment. “So this isn’t to be the bold, romantic beginning to our love story?”

“No, you fucking creep, it is not.” 

Tariq blinked. “But… I’d heard… That you wanted… That you liked…”

Looking at him made me feel physically sick. “You heard _wrong_. And for the record, that was assault!”

Tariq looked suddenly panicked. “Let me deeply apologise here. I’m so sorry for this transgression. I was incredibly wrong. There has been a catastrophic mix-up. Now, before I humiliate myself any further… let me take my leave.” He almost sprinted out of the room. Drake slammed the door shut after him. 

I sank onto the bed, shakily pulling my dress on over my head. “Drake, what took you so long?”

He looked at me anxiously. “I’m in the room next to yours, but it still took me a minute to make it over here.”

“You’re in the room next to mine?” It was an irrelevant question really, but I was shaking violently, and I couldn’t think straight. 

Drake nodded. “Of course. Liam made sure of that. Since he couldn’t be himself, I mean. Liam would never forgive me if something… bad… happened to you." He looked at me earnestly. "And you know what? I’d never forgive myself, either.”

“I---” There was a knock at the door. I glanced at Drake anxiously as he moved to answer it, my heart beat increasing again. What if Tariq was back? What if someone was with him?

“You’re okay, Brook," said Drake. "I’ve got this.” 

Drake opened the door to reveal Maxwell. He looked at us anxiously as Drake stepped aside to let him into the room. “What’s going on?” He asked nervously. It was obvious from the expressions on our faces that something was badly wrong. "I just came to run through the events tomorrow with Estella."

I opened my mouth to explain what had happened, but instead I burst into tears. Maxwell immediately came to sit down next to me, putting a tentative arm on my shoulder. “Estella, what’s happened?” He asked quietly.

I looked at Drake and nodded. “Tariq attacked Brook,” Drake explained, his jaw clenched angrily.

“What?” Maxwell asked in horror. “Tariq assaulted you?”

I nodded. “He tried to. I screamed and Drake heard.” I took a deep breath. “He thought this was his room, or so he claimed,” I said quietly, still shaking. I looked between Drake and Maxwell. “Should I report this to someone?” The two men exchanged an anxious look, and my stomach twisted uncomfortably. I could already guess what they were about to say. 

“The police don’t have any jurisdiction here,” said Maxwell sadly, “because it’s a royal estate.”

“Can’t I tell the King’s Guard?”

“You could…" said Maxwell uncertainly, "but they would have to inform King Constantine.”

I grimaced. “And I doubt a story involving a man in my bedroom will make him more likely to approve of me as Liam’s choice.” **  
**

Drake nodded grimly. “Even though you’ve done absolutely nothing wrong.”

Maxwell swallowed anxiously. “We need to tell Bertrand about this.”

"No, _absolutely_ _not_ ," I said immediately. 

Maxwell looked concerned, gently wrapping an arm around me. “Estella, I know that you and Bertrand won’t be buying a friendship necklace any time soon, but he’d want to know about this. He'll know how best to deal with Tariq."

I shook my head definitively. “No, Maxwell. The moment we tell him a story that begins with me _in my underwear_ he’ll just assume the worst of me.” 

"I don't think he will, Estella. Bertrand won't want any harm to--"

Drake suddenly groaned, Maxwell and I immediately turned to him. "Are you okay?" I asked anxiously. His face was contorted in a grimace. 

Drake lifted his shirt to examine his ribs. "Damn, Tariq punches harder than you'd think."

"You should let us take a look and get some ice on it."

“I’m fine,” Drake said quickly. “I don’t need anyone fussing over me.”

I rolled my eyes. “Drake, this is serious. You might have broken ribs!”

“Yeah,” agreed Maxwell. “I’d let Estella take a look.” He smirked. “Or I can do it?”

“Ugh, I’m fine. Forget I said anything,” Drake said stubbornly. He turned away from us, his eyes lingering on my door. “Wait, Brook. Why doesn’t your room have a lock?”

I felt a stab of anxiety. “I thought they were all like that?”

Drake shook his head. “No. All the other rooms on this floor lock. It’s probably nothing...” but I noticed him exchange another anxious glance with Maxwell. I don't think any of us believed it was nothing. 

"We're swapping rooms," said Maxwell firmly. "I'll go and make the arrangements now.”

I looked at him in surprise. “Won't the staff ask awkward questions?”

He shook his head. “The staff are used to weird requests from the nobility. They won't bat an eyelid. We'll say this room has better lighting for my Pictagram photos or something. All they need to do is change the bedding and towels."

"We can say Brook wanted the room next to Bertrand," said Drake with a snort.

"Very funny." I looked at Maxwell anxiously. "Won't Bertrand think it's odd we've swapped rooms?"

Maxwell smiled reassuringly. "I'll tell him I insisted once I realised your room didn't have a lock. I won't go into anything else." Maxwell scratched his neck awkwardly. "That alone will probably send him into his _Beware the Duke of Ramsford_ routine," Maxwell launched into an eerily accurate impression of his brother. "How dare you provide a member of House Beaumont with an inadequate room." He looked at me kindly. “Why don’t you wait in Drake’s room while I get things sorted?”

Maxwell went to sort the arrangements, and I managed to convince Drake to let me apply some ice to his bruises. Fortunately his ribs didn't seem to be broken. When Maxwell returned the three of sat in Drake's room, quietly sipping whiskey while the staff efficiently sorted the room swap. It was obvious from the glances Drake and Maxwell were exchanging that they were worried about me. _I was worried about me too._

Once the rooms were ready Maxwell walked me to my new bedroom. "You'll be okay, right?" He asked anxiously. "You know you can just call me or Drake if you're not?"

"Thank you, Maxwell," I said quietly. "I think I just need a shower and some sleep."

***

I quickly settled into my new room. It was much smaller, but I felt a rush of relief when I locked the door. 

I showered, trying to wash away the memory of Tariq's hands on my skin. Afterwards, as I lay down on the bed, for the first time I had real doubts about remaining in Cordonia. A question weighed heavily on me. _Why hadn't I turned to Liam for comfort this evening?_ Our relationship and this whole process was so damn strange. We'd discussed getting married, yet I couldn't turn to him for support at a moment like this. _Was this incident even something that I could tell Liam about?_

Unhappy and anxious, it took me a long time to fall asleep. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Moving forward, I’m trying to use less game dialogue. We all know what happens in canon, so I’ll try and only include chunks of game lines when required. Hopefully that’s okay. 
> 
> This chapter is such a weirdly handled one in canon. Some of the dialogue and Drake’s actions suggest that Tariq’s behaviour is considerably worse than the game implies. MC is also robotically polite to a man who has burst into her room while she’s changing and tries to forcibly kiss her. It feels like, textually, the writers wanted to hint at sexual assault whilst keeping the overall tone of the series light and fluffy, and it’s always made me uncomfortable. MC is far too calm about the whole thing and apparently happy to spend a night alone afterwards in her unlocked room.
> 
> I’ve also never been comfortable interfering with Hana’s phone call. I know MC is trying to be supportive, but pushing Hana into something she might not be comfortable with makes me uneasy. Or am I just being far too stuffy and British about the idea of gatecrashing someone’s private conversation? 😂
> 
> Song lyrics at the start of this chapter are from You’re Welcome by Laurence O'Keefe and Kevin Murphy.


	15. The Brothers Beaumont

  
  


_And when the treasury is tapped of its treasures_

_Are the tapestries stripped from the walls?_

_No, the court carries on with its pleasures_

_Inquisitions and banquets and balls_

Unsurprisingly, I didn’t sleep well that night. I woke up suddenly several times, gasping for air. My dreams were haunted by the image of Tariq's sinister smirk and the memory of his hands on my skin. 

In the morning all I wanted to do was stay in bed, locked safely away from the world, but I was due to meet Liam in the gardens. I picked out a flattering dress and made an effort with my hair and makeup. My eyes were puffy and bloodshot from lack of sleep, so my concealer had a _lot_ of heavy lifting to do. 

Liam met me at the entrance to the hedge maze, a wide smile on his face. I did my best to appear carefree and charming, but it was a struggle. I always felt a little like I was acting during my time with Liam, ensuring that I presented the best, most positive, shiny version of myself. That day I felt like I deserved a Best Actress Oscar nomination.

I didn’t know if I could confide in him about the events of the previous evening. I wanted to tell Liam, to be honest with him about how vulnerable and exposed I felt, but a little voice in the back of my head told me not to. _What if he thought I’d encouraged Tariq? But if Liam and I were going to get married, surely he should trust me?_ My head buzzed and hurt from all the contradictory thoughts racing through it.

I brushed my ruminations aside, instead smiling and nodding at whatever Liam said. Ironically, he was probably the most relaxed and happy I’d seen him since New York. 

As we strolled through the maze, he turned to me with a wide smile. “Somehow, when I’m alone with you, I feel so much more like myself.” 

I managed a cheerful smile and let him spin me around in a circle. “You’re happy today…”

He nodded. “I’m always happy when I’m with you. And what about you, Estella? Do you find yourself enjoying the time we spend together?”

I held his hand as we continued into the maze, glad of the comforting physical contact. “Liam, it’s the best.”

He smiled warmly. “Good.”

“So…” I asked as we approached the floral swing at the centre of the maze. “Did you have a master plan to woo me here?”

He grinned. “I thought we’d take a stroll, get lost in the maze, and never find our way out.”

“Ah, so this is all a plan to spend an eternity with me.”

“Precisely.” He gently pushed me on the swing. As we chatted, I realised that he was being much more open about the future than usual, asking me questions about the type of queen I’d like to be and the causes I’d want to champion. Something had definitely changed in his demeanour.

As the swing gradually came to a still, he wrapped his arms around me, pulling me tight against his chest. I looked up and he cupped my cheek, our lips meeting in a gentle kiss. I fought hard to block out the memory of Tariq’s attempt to kiss me the night before. As Liam pulled away, he laughed. 

“What are you laughing about?”

“I’m just so happy.”

I looked at him curiously. “You _do_ seem different today, lighter, more carefree, and you don’t usually talk about spending eternity with me or even what’ll happen after the social season.” I swallowed. “You know, just in case you don’t choose me…”

Liam looked at me earnestly. “I know. It’s just that I’ve been thinking a lot about that decision, and…”

“And?” I asked tentatively.

He shook his head. “I shouldn’t say anything official _yet_ , not until I have the approval of my parents and the court.” He sighed, wrapping his arms around me. “Which won’t be for a few days.” He placed a tender kiss on the top of my head. “But I want you to know that I can’t wait for the Coronation.”

I leant back against his chest. “Then I can’t wait either.”

Liam’s phone beeped and he glanced at it wearily. “That’s my cue to go to my next meeting.”

“Will I see you much this week?”

He shook his head sadly. “I’ll be touring the regions with my father in preparation for my coronation. The next time we’ll see each other will be the party at Ramsford.” He pulled me into one last lingering kiss. “Believe me, Lady Estella, when I say that _I can’t wait_.” 

As I walked slowly back to my room, I knew that I _ought_ to feel ecstatic. _Liam fully intended to make me his choice_. But the events of the previous night clung to me like a second shadow. When I’d arrived in Cordonia it had felt like something out of a fairy tale. Now I knew this magical land still had wolves waiting in the woods. _I needed to be more careful going forward._

***

After lunch, Maxwell and I played cards in my room for a bit. “So, a hilarious thing happened this morning,” he said, rubbing his neck awkwardly. 

“Oh?”

“Bertrand came to find you early this morning. Something to do with place setting etiquette? Well, he sort of panicked when I opened the door. I think he was terrified I’d spent the night with you.”

I couldn’t help but snort at the mental image. “I imagine that went down _super_ well?”

Maxwell grinned sheepishly. “He turned a truly impressive shade of purple. I was a bit worried he was having a heart attack. Anyway, I explained about us noticing your room didn’t lock…”

“How did he take it?”

“Once he stopped ranting about _unforgivable slights to House Beaumont_ , he actually praised me for doing the right thing by swapping rooms. Then he stormed off to find out who’d been in charge of room allocations.” Maxwell chuckled. “Let’s just say I wouldn’t want to be them.”

We returned to our card game for a while. “Maxwell, it wasn’t a coincidence, was it?” I asked eventually. “My being given a room with no lock, and then Tariq barging into my room somehow thinking it was his and that I wanted him?”

Maxwell sighed, sinking deeper back into the couch. “It is all weird,” he said honestly. “But I don’t understand the plot... if it was a plot.”

“Maybe someone was hoping I would sleep with Tariq, and then they could blackmail me into dropping out of the competition, or maybe they hoped that I’d leave Cordonia if I was assaulted…?” I trailed off, thinking how lucky I’d been that Drake had reached me in time. 

Maxwell mulled it over. “But how would they know something had happened? Unless they’d concealed recording devices in your room, and I checked. I couldn’t find anything.” I felt slightly sick. It hadn’t occurred to me that there might have been cameras hidden in my room.

“Maybe Tariq would lie for them and say something had happened?”

Maxwell sighed. “But if Tariq was willing to lie, why take the risk of barging into your room?”

“It doesn’t make sense…”

Maxwell gave my hand a squeeze. “The important thing is that you’re okay.”

***

I didn’t sleep much better the following nights. A day before we were due to depart for Ramsford, it was almost a relief to be woken early by a knock at my bedroom door. Apprehensively, I threw on my robe and answered it. Bertrand was standing there, already smartly dressed in his usual brown suit. I stepped aside to let him into my room. 

“Lady Estella, I understand that Prince Liam will be away both today and tomorrow?”

“Yes.”

He nodded thoughtfully. “That being the case, I propose that we depart for Ramsford this morning. The more time we have to prepare for the arrival of the court, the better.”

“That’s fine with me.” I was _more_ than happy at the prospect of escaping Applewood. 

Bertrand examined me contemplatively. “You look tired.”

I rolled my eyes. “Don’t worry, I’ll make sure I get some beauty sleep before I see Liam again.”

“I am pleased to hear it.” He sighed. “However, what I am trying to ascertain is... is everything well with you, Lady Estella?”

I wasn’t sure if he was genuinely concerned about my wellbeing or worried that I’d drive Liam away by looking anxious and tired. For a moment we stood and stared at each other. _It was becoming something of a habit for us._ I wondered if I should just be honest with him about the incident with Tariq. There was something oddly reassuring about the Duke’s steady presence, but then I pictured his reaction when I began a story with, _well, I was in my underwear_...

“Everything is absolutely fine.”

He raised a sceptical eyebrow. “Indeed?”

“Indeed.”

I knew that he didn’t believe me, but he didn’t press the issue. “Very well. Can you be ready to leave in an hour?”

“Absolutely.”

He gave me a final curious glance before leaving the room. 

***

We spent most of the limo journey from Applewood to the Beaumont estate in silence.

“I, for one, thought Estella’s performance at the Applewood events was spectacular,” Maxwell said eventually, disturbing the quiet. 

“She did fine,” said Bertrand wearily, glancing up from his phone. He sighed, turning to me and Maxwell with a serious expression. “I cannot stress enough the importance of our upcoming fete. The Beaumont Bash is the final event before the Coronation, and expectations couldn’t be higher.”

Maxwell grinned enthusiastically. “Which means we have to throw the best _parrttyyy_.”

Bertrand nodded. “The very reputation of House Beaumont is on the line.” His eyes settled on me. “Are you prepared, Estella?”

I met his steady gaze. “Bertrand, I’m not going to lose sight of my objective at this stage of the competition.”

Maxwell looked at me anxiously. “You should still enjoy the party too, Estella.”

“Yeah...” I said halfheartedly. I didn’t really feel like partying, especially not if Tariq would be there. 

Suddenly, Maxwell slid across the limo seat to look out of the window. “Hey, we’re home!”

Gazing out, I saw rolling vineyards leading all the way up to the edge of a large stone manor. The Beaumont estate had more of a Mediterranean architectural style than Applewood or the Palace. There was a visible terrace, and many of the rooms had balconies. It really was a beautiful manor.

When the limo glided to a stop, I hopped out, glad to step into the fresh air. “Wow… This is some fine real estate.”

Bertrand nodded and smiled proudly. “It’s beautiful in all its splendour.” It was probably the most enthusiastic I’d ever seen him. 

The brothers led me into a large airy sitting room adjoining the terrace. Maxwell immediately plopped down onto the couch. “ _Ahhhhh_ , the cushion still remembers my shape.”

I exchanged a glance with Bertrand, whose brow was creased. Something told me that we’d both had the same thought. “It’s lovely…” I said tentatively, “but it also feels _empty_ for a noble’s estate. Shouldn’t there be, err, people?”

Bertrand nodded grimly. “To cut costs, the house staff isn’t scheduled until tomorrow, but the caterers and cleaning crew from the event planning company should’ve been here by now.”

For a moment I thought I caught a flicker of anxiety on Maxwell’s face, but it was quickly replaced with a smile. “It’s just a big place. You gotta shout to reach them. Hellooooooo! We’re home!”

There was absolutely no response. The manor was silent. 

“Hello?” I called loudly. “Is anybody there?”

_Nothing._

“Something isn’t right,” said Bertrand. He was obviously feeling tense. His right eye was twitching slightly. “If there was anyone here, there would be vehicles parked outside.”

“Good point,” said Maxwell quietly.

“I’m going to investigate.” Bertrand vanished into the manor. 

“This is odd, isn’t it?” I said to Maxwell.

“Mmm,” he said quietly. “I’m sure Bertrand will figure out what’s going on. The company is probably just running late.” He was jiggling his legs restlessly. 

Shortly afterwards, Bertrand stormed back into the room, his face a shade of crimson. “They have backed out of the event!” He thundered, gesturing at his phone. “I have just received an email confirming their cancellation.”

“Why would they do that?” I asked, trying to keep the suspicion from my voice. _It didn’t take a genius to figure out that it had something to do with Maxwell’s odd behaviour._

“It appears there was a…” Bertrand paused, taking a deep breath. “A paperwork issue. _A logistical hiccup_ , it seems, and rather than wait for our arrival, they cancelled.” He groaned, sinking into a chair. “This is going to be a disaster… We have two days until the entire royal court arrives and an entire manor to prepare… not to mention the catering…”

 _That would be a hell of a task for three people._ “Well…” I said hesitantly. “There’s got to be something we can do. This isn’t the first time the crew we hired hasn’t shown up.” I shot a brief glance at Maxwell, who was avoiding my gaze. 

“Don’t remind me…” Bertrand said gloomily. 

I met his eyes. “I’m just saying we can pull through if we work together.”

An expression of resolve came back into his face. “I suppose you are right. There’s no alternative except to cover for this mess.” Bertrand turned sharply to his brother. “Maxwell, call in every last favour you can. We need extra hands to clean the estate. I’ll see what I can do about getting the flowers and furnishings for the ballroom.”

Maxwell jumped up. “Right!”

Bertrand turned to me. “Lady Estella.”  
 **  
**“Yes?” ****

“I presume that you are familiar with cleaning, given your former profession?”

I rolled my eyes. “Point me in the direction of your dusters.”

***

Ramsford manor was vast and dusty. Armed with various cleaning supplies, I made my way along the seemingly endless corridors, dusting window sills and picture frames. I was glad to be alone with my thoughts. The whole situation was strange, and it once again raised the uncomfortable question that I preferred not to ask: _Could I really trust the Beaumonts?_

I was in Cordonia under their protection and sponsorship… Yet I’d almost ended up being assaulted at Applewood. The brothers were meant to be invested in my quest to win Liam’s hand, but things kept going mysteriously wrong. First, the Regatta crew had dropped out at the last minute. Now a royal visit to their estate was likely to go disastrously. I would have to be a fool not to at least wonder if they were trying to sabotage me. _But why?_ Bertrand seemed to have genuinely pinned all of his hopes on my success. The troubling fact was that if there was a smoking gun in this situation, it definitely pointed to friendly, kind, Maxwell. _Could his affability really all be an act?_

I pulled open a shutter to let some light into the gloomy corridor, watching particles of dust dance in the sunlight. Then I pushed open the stiff window, gratefully breathing in the fresh air drifting from the vineyards. _Maybe I’d just read too many crime novels and Gothic thrillers. Perhaps I was imagining subterfuge where there wasn’t any._ The Beaumonts were short on funds. It was most likely that a cheque had just bounced. _Maxwell was probably behaving oddly because he’d made a reckless purchase. It didn’t need to be some grand conspiracy._ Nonetheless... I resolved to keep my guard up. 

***

Once I’d dusted all that I could reasonably dust and dragged an ineffectual vacuum cleaner that looked more like an antique along the corridors, I found myself examining a wall covered with somewhat unusual decorations. 

“I see you found our wall of weapons,” Maxwell said cheerfully from behind me. 

I turned to greet him, trying to conceal my slight wariness. “Why are these here?”

“These are a selection from our armoury. They’re very important to our family and Cordonia’s history, but the best thing about them is that they act as a variety of exciting bottle openers!”

“Bottle openers? That’s totally normal.” I raised an eyebrow. “What exactly is going to happen at this party? Because it sounds like blood will be spilled.”

Maxwell grinned. “Nothing is more important than safety here at House Beaumont.”

“... Really?”

“Well, _having fun_ is first. Second is _keeping Bertrand from getting mad_. Then probably something about dancing. But right after that? Definitely safety.”

“Mmm hmm.” 

“Anyway, I’m going to go and start setting up the tables in the ballroom. Are you okay to give Bertrand a hand?”

“Absolutely.”

***

As I entered the main hall, I found Bertrand at the base of the stairs, obsessively scrubbing the tiles on his hands and knees. He’d removed his jacket and sweater vest and was actually wearing dark _jeans_ with his shirt. I stared at him in astonishment for a moment. “Uh, Bertrand?”

He looked up at me irritably. “What?”

I couldn’t suppress an amused smile. “Well, I’ve never seen _you_ do manual labour.”

He looked at me wearily. “Laugh all you want. I’d expect nothing less.” A resolute expression came over his face. “But this house is something special, and I’ll get down on my hands and knees to preserve it if I have to.”

I watched him work in silence for a moment. “Bertrand… You missed a spot.”

He looked at me angrily, and it was a struggle not to laugh. “Why don’t you go and bother Maxwell? I’m sure he needs help cleaning up whatever chaos he’s created.”

“Well, Maxwell sent me to help _you_ , soo…”

He looked back down at the floor. “It’s fine. I have it under control,” he said stubbornly. 

I rolled my eyes. “Bertrand, let me help you.”

He looked at me tiredly. “If you’re going to insist, I suppose it wouldn’t hurt. Remember to get in between the tiles.”

I grabbed a brush and spray from the bucket of cleaning supplies, and set to scrubbing the opposite side of the floor.

After some time, Bertrand came over to inspect my work. He frowned down at my rows of clean tiles. “Hmmf… I would’ve thought someone with your experience would be accustomed to wiping something down well…”

“Hey!” I said defensively, “I mean, I am, but… somehow you make it sound like a _bad_ thing.” I glared at him, but I realised from the slight quirking of his lips, that it was _his_ turn to tease _me_. “Very funny _, Your Grace._ ”

“I suppose I owe you my-” He sounded as if it almost pained him to admit it. “-my thanks.”

“Glad I could help.” I met his grey eyes with a smirk. To my amusement, he was slightly dishevelled and sweaty. To my discomfort, that just made him more attractive to me. 

He cleared his throat. “Now, we should find Maxwell before he’s left unattended for too long.” As if on cue, Maxwell sauntered into the room. “Speak of the devil,” said Bertrand wearily. 

“I hope that was a reference to my impish charm.”

“It wasn’t.”

Maxwell sighed theatrically. “A man can dream.”

“How did you get on in the ballroom?” His brother demanded. 

“All of the tables are set up ready to be decorated.”

Bertrand nodded. “Good.” He turned to me. “Your help is appreciated, Lady Estella, but I can finish the floors. Maxwell will need you more. Can you two make a start on setting the tables?”

***

In the ballroom, Maxwell and I got to work laying the tables. We hadn’t been working for long when the ballroom door opened. “Hello? Anyone in here?” Called a familiar voice. 

“Drake!”

“Drake! Drake! Drake! You came!” Maxwell cheered, almost bouncing with enthusiasm. 

Drake eyed him wearily. “Yeah, yeah. Calm down. It’s not that big of a deal.”

“Yes, it is!” Maxwell said happily. “We _are_ friends!”

Drake rolled his eyes at me. “He promised me whiskey.”

“Friendship whiskey!” Maxwell said cheerfully. 

I grinned at Drake. “Is whiskey all you care about?”

He considered for a moment. “I also care about barbecue and sleeping.”

I snorted. “Sounds about right.”

“Anyway,” said Drake. “Here I am. What needs to be done?”

“Can you help Estella?” Maxwell asked. “I’m going to check on Bertrand.”

“Go ahead,” said Drake. As Maxwell bounded out of the room, Drake turned to me with raised eyebrows. “So here we are again, another mysterious Beaumont crisis.”

I nodded. “Tell me about it.” We set to arranging the floral centrepieces. “Why, Drake, I never knew you had such flair with peonies.”

He sighed. “The things I do for you people…” 

Drake picked up another vase as Maxwell and Bertrand entered the ballroom. Bertrand nodded briskly at Drake, who returned the nod. Something had noticeably changed in the Beaumonts’ demeanours. Maxwell looked flustered, and Bertrand began to slam cutlery down on the tables. 

As I arranged flowers in my vase, Drake stepped closer and lowered his voice. “Hey, anything about this seem off to you?” 

“Yes, _obviously_.”

"I wonder if--"

Drake stopped talking as Bertrand and Maxwell began to argue in hushed tones at the other side of the room. We both pretended to concentrate on the flowers whilst trying to catch their every word. 

“What I don’t get is that the money was in our account _yesterday_!”

“I… I don’t know anything about our finances, Bertrand! You know that!”

“You might not know anything, but you’re still causing me problems! You’re the only other person with access to that account!”

“I…”

“This better not be to pay off one of your idiotic credit card purchases. Last month you said you spent three thousand on a jet ski. What is it this time?” _Wait, Maxwell bought a jet ski last month? That was either a seriously bizarre purchase, or a terrible cover story..._

“I told you,” Maxwell hissed, sounding uncharacteristically angry. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

Bertrand had turned almost fuchsia. “You’re lucky I don’t have time to deal with you right now.”

As Bertrand and Maxwell stalked off in opposite directions, Drake raised an eyebrow at me. “Well? Doesn’t it seem like something weird is going on?”

I nodded. “There’s been something suspicious about House Beaumont since the Regatta.”

“I’m going to find out what it is,” said Drake determinedly. “Besides, it sounds like Maxwell might be in over his head this time. I think he really needs my help, but knowing him, he’ll never ask.”

I looked at Drake curiously. “I didn’t realise you and Maxwell were that close.”

He shrugged. “After all the time I’ve spent with him in the past weeks, I’m starting to find him less annoying.”

“High praise.”

“Besides, I’m arranging peonies for him. I think I’m invested now.”

“Sure…”

“Drake! Estella!” 

I jumped. Bertrand had appeared behind us and was glaring angrily at us. “Eep! Err, I mean, yes?”

“Why are you two standing around chatting like ladies at an afternoon tea? You both said you’d help, so _help_!”

Drake gritted his teeth and narrowed his eyes. “Right away, Duke Ramsford.”

I rolled mine. “Yeah. _Of course_.”

Drake and I resumed arranging flowers. After about half an hour, Drake abruptly abandoned his vase and walked away. I watched discreetly as he opened a door at the end of the hallway and slipped inside. Shortly afterwards, Bertrand and Maxwell left to start preparing the guest rooms, so I took the opportunity to follow Drake.

I stepped into the room, closing the door behind me. It was a wood panelled study, dominated by a large desk and what seemed to be a trophy cabinet. “Drake, what are you doing back here?” 

Drake was sat at the desk, flicking through some documents. He looked up at me with an amused smile. “Brook! So, you followed me, huh? This is the Beaumont study.”

“How’d you even know this was here?”

“I used to come to this house a lot, back in the day. We ran in the same circles, being friends with Liam and all that…” Drake sighed. “Savannah, used to think the Beaumont brothers were the epitome of courtly life. She practically worshipped them.” I couldn't quite imagine anyone _worshipping_ Bertrand and Maxwell. 

“You obviously didn’t.”

“I found them to be more of an acquired taste.”

I chuckled. “You mean they both annoyed the hell out of you.”

Drake nodded. “Yup. Pretty much. Whenever I got tired of their antics, I’d sneak off and come here to their study.”

I perched on the edge of the desk. “So, you were the life of the party, even back then?”

“Ha ha, Brook. But, yeah, whenever Savannah found me here, she’d try to get me to join in on the fun.” A troubled expression clouded Drake’s face. “I don’t even know where she is now.”

I looked at him sympathetically. “Still no contact?”

He shook his head. 

“You don’t have any way of finding her?”

He sighed. “She stopped answering my calls and deleted all of her social media. Wherever she is, all I know is that she doesn’t _want_ to be found, even by me.” His face crumpled with guilt. “And you know what? I don’t blame her. I failed her. I didn’t protect her from… from whatever it was that made her leave.”

“Drake, I’m sure you did everything you could,” I said kindly.

He miserably ran a hand through his hair. “I’ve spent hours trying to figure out if I could’ve done something different, if I could have done _more_.”

“Maybe she just needs to deal with this on her own,” I suggested unconvincingly.

“Perhaps,” Drake shook his head, “but she’s my little sister. I helped her learn how to tie her shoes. It kills me to think there’s something she didn’t think she could trust me with.”

“Do you have any idea what made her leave?”

Drake leaned back in the desk chair. “She was so happy, and then one day, after one of these Beaumont parties, _she wasn’t._ She locked herself in her room, and I could hear her crying. A couple days later, all of her things were packed, and she was just… gone.” Drake stared off into space for a moment, then sighed heavily. “But that’s enough about that.”

I found myself wondering once more what the hell had become of Savannah Walker. An uncomfortable shiver ran through me when I remembered my encounter with Tariq. Could something similar have happened to Savannah? Something worse? 

We fell into silence, and I let my gaze roam around the study. “This is a rather sombre room, isn’t it?”

Drake nodded. “It _is_ on the more serious side, isn’t it? The former Duke Ramsford made it a point to decorate it with the family’s _illustrious_ accomplishments.” Drake gestured at the walls, which were lined with ribbons and medals. “As you can see, the Beaumont family has a lot to brag about.”

I moved to examine the display cabinet. It contained a set of gleaming trophies and framed pictures of young Bertrand and Maxwell, both on horseback. “I guess the brothers had a habit of winning.”

“A family tradition.”

There were certificates for awards the brothers had won at school. Apparently Bertrand had been a debating champion and Maxwell a prize winner in performing arts. On the wall there was a line of degree certificates, each from a prestigious university and belonging to a different Beaumont ancestor. “Looking at all this. I can see why Bertrand is always so worried about upholding the Beaumont name.” 

Drake nodded. “Their house goes back a long way.” He sighed. “I could never pity a rich kid like Bertrand, but I come very close to it sometimes. He’s got a lot of pressure on him.” 

I knew that Drake was right. Seeing this room definitely helped to put Bertrand’s personality into context. “I’m guessing he was trained since childhood to prepare for the responsibilities of running the House?”

“Yeah. I think his parents gave him _a lot_ of talks about his heritage and Cordonia… And it’s not like Maxwell’s much help with anything.”

“Maxwell tries... Sometimes.” 

Drake chuckled. “Heh. Maxwell’s always been more interested in having fun. He couldn’t care less about prestige and honour... That’s one of the things I like about him, actually.” Drake sighed. “Assuming we can trust him.”

“I guess you’ve been thinking what I’ve been thinking?”

Drake met my gaze. “That Maxwell’s deep in financial trouble and channelling Beaumont funds to cover for it?”

“Pretty much.”

Drake’s attention suddenly drifted back to the papers on the desk.“Whoa!”

“What is it?”

“If I’m not mistaken, it’s a cheque signed by Maxwell for four thousand euros!”

“Who’s it made payable to?”

Drake handed me the cheque. “The name hasn’t been filled in yet, but it’s from his private account, not the Beaumont family one.”

“So Maxwell _has_ been shuffling House Beaumont funds around?”

Drake nodded. “So it would seem.”

“But why is it just lying around in the study?”

Drake held up a brown envelope. “It was in this. There’s a French address, but again, no name.”

“Curiouser and curiouser.”

Drake took out his phone and snapped a photo of the address. “Just in case.” He glanced at his phone in surprise for a moment. “Jesus, Brook, it’s nearly eight. Do you want to get out of here and find some food?”

“Aren’t we in the middle of a load of vineyards?” I asked doubtfully. 

“There’s some small restaurants in the nearest town.” He raised an eyebrow. “Nothing fancy though, I should warn you.”

“I think I can cope. Shall we invite the Beaumonts?”

Drake snorted. “They’re _definitely_ not the kind of places the Duke of Ramsford would deign to set foot in.”

“Maxwell?”

“Yeah, it might be a good opportunity to ask him some questions.”

***

Maxwell looked extremely tempted to accept our dinner invitation, but after a formidable glower from Bertrand he quickly declined. 

“Sorry,” he said quietly. “I’d better stay here and help Bertrand fluff towels.”

“I’m sure you can excuse me and Brook for an hour or two?” Drake said to Bertrand in a tone that implied he had very little choice in the matter. It was always entertaining to watch Drake and Bertrand interact. It reminded me of watching silverback gorillas size each other up in nature documentaries. 

Bertrand narrowed his eyes. “I’m sure we’ll somehow cope without you.” I felt his glare on us as we climbed into the limo. I did feel a little bad for abandoning him and Maxwell, but I also needed some space from the Beaumonts to think. 

Drake and I ended up in a small pizza restaurant. It was extremely casual, but the food was good. We discussed Maxwell’s mysterious cheque over dinner. We decided that we’d try to catch him alone, ask him about it and see if he needed any help. 

Over cheesecake, Drake looked at me seriously. “Look, Brook…” 

“What is it?”

“I’m sorry that I wasn’t very nice to you when you arrived in Cordonia.”

“Somehow I survived.”

He smiled weakly. “I know that, but I should have been kinder. You were new to the country, and you’d just been thrown head first into the lion’s den…” Drake trailed off, his eyes lingering on me.

“It’s okay, Drake. I know you were looking out for Liam.”

He nodded. “I just…”

I looked at him curiously. “What are you trying to say?”

He looked at me earnestly. “It's just, I do care about you.”

“Drake, I guessed that the night you rescued me from Tariq.”

He smiled, but I could tell from the look in his eyes that there was more he wanted to say. He took a long sip of his beer. “Brook, can I ask you something?”

“Absolutely.”

“If we’d met somewhere else, _anywhere_ else, at a club in New York, or in an airport, or at a party. If you hadn’t been our waitress that night, and I hadn’t been sitting next to Liam, do you think all of this…" He took a deep breath. "Do you think it could’ve been different between us?” 

I didn’t know what to say. I found Drake attractive, and I enjoyed his company, but I was in Cordonia for Liam, and I wasn't sure Drake and I had enough in common for a relationship to work. I didn’t think I was cut out for a life of barbecue, whiskey and punching grizzly bears. 

“Drake, who knows? Maybe _everything_ would’ve been different.” I knew it was a coward’s answer. 

He nodded. “I know you’re here for Liam. I’m not trying to make your life complicated…” He sighed. “I’ve tried so hard not to say anything.”

“Drake, just because I’m here for Liam doesn't mean you’re not allowed feelings.” 

His face fell. “I know, but the truth is that my best friend is head over heels for you. So it doesn’t really matter how I feel. Liam is the only one who’s ever looked out for me. The only one who gave a damn about me after my dad… After he was gone." Drake's expression hardened. "The rest of the court was ready to cast us out, never mind that he died protecting the royal family.” _That piece of information told me everything that I needed to know about King Constantine._

I gently touched his arm. “Drake… I’m sorry. That’s terrible.” 

He sighed. “I didn’t care much, but my mom and Savannah… it would’ve devastated them. Liam made sure we had a place at the palace as long as we wanted one. I could never betray him by falling for his girl. So that’s what it all comes down to, Brook. Whatever I feel… it doesn’t matter.”

“Drake....”

He gave himself a shake, changing the subject. “So, the Beaumont mystery… 

“Maybe we’ll find more clues while we’re prepping the house?”

He nodded. “We’ll see. Keep an eye out, but try not to be too obvious about it.”

“Drake, did you just mansplain subtlety to me?”

He groaned. “Hell, Brook, I’m sorry.”

***

When we got back to the manor we helped Maxwell fluff pillows and put out guest soaps. Bertrand’s mood only seemed to have declined while we were at dinner. He prowled around the manor, barking orders at his brother and glaring at everyone and everything. 

It was a relief to turn in for the night. The room I’d been given by the brothers was large, elegant and most importantly, _lockable_. I changed into my pyjamas and flopped down on the comfortable bed, but frustratingly I couldn’t sleep. My head was buzzing with thoughts about Liam, about Drake’s near-confession of feelings over dinner, about House Beaumont’s mysterious finances. After an hour I gave up and decided to go and get a drink. I didn’t really care if it was whiskey or hot chocolate, just something that would help me feel more sleepy. 

I threw on my robe and tiptoed quietly along the manor’s corridors. It soon dawned on me that I didn’t actually know my way to the kitchens, so instead I made a beeline for the drawing room liquor cabinet. I poured myself a glass of scotch and settled down on a squeaky leather couch. I sipped my drink contemplatively. Four months ago I’d been waitressing in New York. Now I was somehow sitting in a Duke’s drawing room that felt like something straight out of an Agatha Christie novel. _A lot had happened in a very short amount of time._ I was pulled from my thoughts by the sound of approaching footsteps. Bertrand stepped into the room, raising his formidable eyebrows when he spotted me.

“Oh... Lady Estella.” He sounded distinctly displeased to see me.

“ _Your Grace_ ,” I replied with equal enthusiasm. “I take it you couldn’t sleep either?”

He snorted disdainfully. “As If I’ve had time to _sleep_. I have been polishing the cutlery.”

“I see.”

He poured himself a drink and sat down at the opposite end of the couch to me. He frowned down into his glass of brandy. “Lady Estella…”

“Hmm?”

He met my eyes with uncharacteristic apprehension. “Can I ask about the nature of your relationship with Mr Walker?”

I tried to hide my smirk behind my glass. So _this_ was part of the reason for his bad mood. He was worried that I’d run away with Drake and destroy House Beaumont’s chances for the throne. I decided to mess with him. “Drake is-” I sipped my drink thoughtfully, “ _very_ handsome.”

Bertrand turned slightly red. “Estella!”

I ignored him and tilted my head to the side, sighing dreamily. “I hear his mom has a ranch in Texas. I’ve _always_ wanted to live on a ranch with all the cattle… I could churn butter and ride pretty horses.” I fought back a laugh, looking Bertrand straight in his alarmed grey eyes. “Just imagine if Drake and I got married. Everyone could wear denim, and all the guests could sit on hay bales.”

His expression morphed from horror to irritation. “Very witty, Estella.”

I sipped my drink. “Thank you, I rather thought so.”

“I take it then that you are not in a romantic relationship?”

“We are not. Drake’s a great guy, but he’s entirely supportive of my relationship with Liam.”

Bertrand tried and failed to conceal his relief. “Good.”

I raised a curious eyebrow. “What were you going to do if we were? Banish me forever from your estate?”

“Hardly. I would have tried to convince you of the foolishness of abandoning a Prince for a commoner.”

“You don’t like Drake very much, do you?”

Bertrand made a huffing sound. “It’s not a matter of disliking him. We merely have very little in common.”

“Less in common than you do with me?”

“What a strange question.” He looked at me thoughtfully. “Do we have so little in common? As much as you enjoy antagonising me, you have to admit you have more commonality with me than you do with Mr Walker.”

“Meaning?”

“You’re far more shrewd and sophisticated than you care to admit.”

I quirked my lips. “My my, you are being complimentary now that you know I’m not planning on running away with Drake.”

He raised an eyebrow. “I can hardly imagine a vegetarian thriving on a Texan cattle ranch.”

“Touché, but don’t opposites sometimes attract?”

He glanced down at his drink for several long moments, seriously considering the question. “Perhaps…” he said eventually, “but sometimes the reality of a situation needs to be accepted.” Something in his tone suggested he was thinking of a very specific situation. He looked back at me with a fresh frown. “Now, are you going to tell me why you haven’t been sleeping recently?”

I sipped my drink. “Are you going to tell me why you’re so angry with Maxwell?” As I asked the question, I leaned forward and my robe fell open, revealing my rather low cut pyjamas. He turned slightly red and didn’t quite conceal his lingering gaze by sipping his drink. I didn’t bother adjusting my robe. If I had to endure moments of irritating attraction to him, it seemed only fair that he should suffer too. 

He sighed, carefully looking away from me. “I cannot discuss my private business with my brother.”

“Very mysterious… Well, since we can’t be honest with each other, why don’t you tell me something interesting about your estate.”

“What do you mean by interesting?” His gaze briefly strayed from my eyes to my chest.

“No mad wife you keep locked in the attic? No wailing ghosts?”

“As much as it would please me to rehome Maxwell, the attic is simply not fit for human habitation.” He sipped his drink. “There is a family ghost, but I for one have never seen it.” He moved toward me slightly, his eyes lingering on my lips. 

“Are you going to tell me the story?” I leaned closer to him. The atmosphere between us was slightly charged. We were so close that our knees were touching.

“I…” Suddenly he frowned, his eyes darkening. “I have far more important things to do than sit around here telling ridiculous ghost stories!” He drained his glass, and almost slammed it down on the coffee table as he stood up. “I am going to type the menu cards.”

He left the room without a backward glance. I watched him go with both amusement and disappointment. _Liam_ , I thought to myself reproachfully, _you are here for Liam, Estella_. I finished my drink and made my way back to bed. 

An hour later I still couldn’t sleep, and my hand slipped lazily between my legs, my mind conjuring up the image of Liam, the memory of his lips and the weight of his body on mine the day of the beach party. But as I found my release, my thoughts weren’t with Liam at the Forgotten Falls. They were with the Duke of Ramsford on the leather drawing room sofa.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Apologies for such a long chapter! The scene in the Beaumont study always makes me laugh, surely it would have occurred to Drake or MC that there was a Savannah link. But it's better drama this way 😂
> 
> Song lyrics at the start of this chapter are from Protocoligorically Correct by Richard M. Sherman and Robert B. Sherman.

**Author's Note:**

> Characters, some dialogue and the plots of the Royal Romance and The Royal Heir all belong to Pixelberry.  
> Contains spoilers for both The Royal Romance and Royal Heir Series.  
> I don’t own any song lyrics at the start of chapters.


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